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Tragically Hip Up To Here Thirty-Eight Years Old twelve men broke loose in seventy-three from Millhaven maximum security twelve pictures lined up, across the front page seems the Mounties had a summertime war to wage the chief told the people they had nothing to fear said, "the last thing they wanna do is hang around here" they mostly came from towns with long french names but one of the dozen was a hometown shame chorus same pattern on the table same clock on the wall been one seat empty, eighteen years in all freezing slow time, away from the world he's 38 years old, never kissed a girl we were sitting around the table, heard the telephone ring father said he'd tell em if he saw anything heard the tap on my window in the middle of the night held back the curtain for my older brother Mike see my sister got raped, so a man got killed local boy went to prison, man's buried on the hill folks went back to normal when they closed the case but they still stare at their shoes when they pass our place my mother cried, "the horror has finally ceased!" he whispered, "yeah, for the time being at least" over her shoulder, on the squad car megaphone said, "let's go Michael, son, we're taking you home." chorus |
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