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beans on toast - the great american novel lyrics

as the sunday sun sets down on rhino, nevada
i’m not really a gambling man, but i’m quite partial to a flutter
and if you’re playing black jack, they’ll let you drink for free
and that sounds like a pretty good deal to me

so i pull up to a table, and i sink my first coors light
i get chatting to an old man, sat by my side
he can’t quite place my accent and he asks me where i’m from
like many before he thinks that i’m australian

i tell him i’m from england, from ess-x to be precise
we both lose a couple of hands and sink some more coors light
he asks me what i’m doing, so far away from home
i tell him i’ve been singing on the road

he asks me where i’ve been
what i’ve seen
and what i might have learnt
travelling on that giant piece of dirt

i’ve seen the rivers and the mountains, the forests through the trees
i’ve seen the deserts and canyons, i’ve seen the tumbleweed
i watched the sunset of the west coast, with sand between my toes
i’ve been east freezing my b-ll-cks off, in six inches of snow
i’ve seen the interstates and freeways, from my rental car
mostly though, i’ve seen a lot of bars
i’ve seen a few music venues and a, sh-t-tonne of bars

london, gatwick, jfk, boston, baltimore
to the american visionary art museum down the appalachian trail
to the suburbs of atlanta and the gainesville bbq
where i ended in a karaoke bar doing jimmy buffet tunes
left onto the i10, the “big easy”, new orleans
i played a bit of washboard with my main […]
i felt like chris christopherson, flat out in baton rouge
when they let me sing some songs in the red dragon listening room
in fact i’ve been singing songs every time i stop
somehow i’m calling this my job

i’ve heard the banjos and the trumpets, been to where the blues was born
danced to dubstep and to punk rock, and i shopped in record stores
i read the great american novel, by the great american novelist
and give me half a chance, i’ll build myself a white picket fence
cause i love the american culture, its music, books and poetry
and the wonderful americans that i’ve met on my journey

flashback to the casino and the old man he said “son
sounds like you’ve seen more of this country than i have ever done
i come from salt lake city, that’s where i was born and raised
i still live in utah and i barely left the state
but you still haven’t told me what you’ve learnt
sounds like you’re just driving round and getting drunk
and it’s not like you’re any good at blackjack either
you haven’t won a dollar since you’ve been here

i’ve seen casinos and the churches, the prisons and the shopping malls
the ballparks and the stadiums, the junk-food drive-throughs
the fast cars and the t-tty bars, the broken traffic lights
the homeless and forgotten folk, downtown late at night
and i’ve seen the foreign policy, the oily, bl–dy hands
i’ve seen the police brutality sweep across the land
and if there’s one thing that i’ve learned
it’s that a dollar costs more than it’s worth
i didn’t come in here to win
i just came in for a drink

- beans on toast lyrics

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