1,935,447 Pages

​Condor Ave

This song is by Elliott Smith and appears on the album Roman Candle (1994).

She took the oldsmobile out past Condor Ave, and she locked the car
And slipped past into rhythmic quietude; lights burning, voice dry and hoarse
I threw the screen door like a bastard back and forth; the chimes fell over each other
I fell onto my knees; the sound of the car drivin' off made me feel diseased

A sick shouting like you hear at the fairground
Now I'm picking up to put away anything of yours that's still around
I don't know what to do with your clothes or your letters; it'll make a whisper out of you

She took the oldsmobile out past Condor Ave; the fairground's lit, a drunk man sits by the gate she's driving through
Got his hat tipped bottle back in between his teeth
Looks like he's buried in the sand at the beach, I can't think about you driving off to leave barely awake
To take a little nap while the road is straight

I wish that car had never been discovered. They took away the bottle and the hat he was under
That's the one thing that he could never do and it'll make a whisper out of you

She took the oldsmobile out past Condor Ave; cops were runnin' around the scene
Looking for some kind of clue; they never get uptight when a moth gets crushed
Unless a light bulb really loved him very much
I'm lying down; blowing smoke from my cigarette; little whisper smoke signs that you'll never get

You're in your oldsmobile driving by the moon. Headlights burnin' bright ahead of you
And someone's burnin' out, out on Condor Ave, trying to make a whisper out of you

What a shitty thing to say; did you really mean it? You never said a word to me about what passed between us
So now I'm leavin' you alone; you can do whatever the hell you want to. Na na na na na na

External links