Falling out the Window of a Tall Building, by HAIR BY LEONARD (2024)

1.

The bullet struck my heartFrom a thousand feet away. Must've been a lucky shot, Must've been a lucky shot. The bullet clipped my gutAnd I bled for days and days. See the kind of luck I got? It's the kind of luck I got. Now I'm falling in the wind, Falling from a window, I'm always falling in love again… The poison hit my veinI watched the world blink off and on I scratched until I bled,Scratched until I bled. The poison spun my brain,I was howling till the dawn --Tore the hair out of my head, Tore the hair out of my head.Now I'm falling in the wind, Falling from a window, I'm always falling in love again… with you. The killer tracked me down, I'd been hiding out for years. Saw my reflection in his knife,My reflection in his knife.The killer tracked me down, And through a waterfall of tears, I begged him for my life, I begged him for my life. Now I'm falling in the wind, Falling from a window, Falling from a tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall building.

2.

It's all you can eat AmericaIt's drink and destroyIt's you should see what we used to do to the poor rock chucksWe'd stun 'em with our pellet gunsAnd shove M80s up their assesIt was a good way to kill the time if you don't give two f*cksIt's Julie Andrews's birthdayAnd this we celebrate in styleWith all the von Trapps and the BanksiesLittle Gretl, won't you give us a (...)There's only one way out of hereSo I'm going back to the barIf anything means anythingNot a one of us is getting very farThere was a flood in Nashville and a fire in LA and a hurricane that blew back your mother's hairShe sat there bewilderedin a twisted nest of palm frondstalking to a stranger who only offered her a blank stareIt's 10:00 and I'm thirstyGod knows I always need another drinkLook at that girl nursing a tall boyShe'll be gone before your eyes can (...)There's only one way out of hereI'm plowing through whatever's in my wayIf anything means anything It won't be your unlucky dayHow I ended up in Vegas is anybody's guess, I guessGuess you can say I was looking for something new to doA new way to hold a cigarette and a new way to fold a tieA new way to stir the flour to darken my rouxThe band just stopped playingBut listen to that staccato beatIt's the exotic sound of AmericaIt just makes you wanna move your (...)There's only one way out of hereAnd I'm running straight for the end zoneIf anything means anythingI’m not stopping till I get homeI’m just a simple man with just a simple taste in thingsAll I need is a 40-acre stretch of coastal real estateAnd a beautiful wife and a beautiful car and a beautiful coif of hairAnd a beautiful doctor to check on my aching prostate They always say it can't happen hereWell, boys, it's already happenedYou say, oh, no, we won't get fooled againBut just ask Mr. Pete Townshend…What a time to be alive for all the war reenactorsThey can cosplay the Civil War and World War II in real timeBut now that the shooting's really startedAll I see is a bunch of frightened drunksShaking in their boots and waiting to drop the first dimeNow I'm running through all these bodiesThe end zone’s finally here at lastGonna spike it and dance the watusi I’ll run so fast I’ll even outrun my (...)There's only one way out of hereTell my wife and kids I love them soIf anything means anythingWon't be nothing they don't already know

3.

Don't know what I was thinkingDriving out to middle Bumf*ckIt's colder than the ArcticAnd dusty as the moonMaybe some young geniusWill invent a way to harnessPower from this harvestAnd become a dust tycoonSo I'm driving through this ghost townAnd I'm thinking of youDoes knowing that you've wronged somebodyMean you can never make it right tooCold day in ChivingtonAnd cold day will soon turn to cold nightAt the Sand Creek Massacre National Historic SiteThe guy this town was named forWas a Civil War heroBut it was here at Sand CreekWhere he led his men to shameThey raped all the womenMutilated all the childrenTook scalps as souvenirsAnd hunted the men down like gameA century of dirt and dustIs nowhere near enoughTo strangle the colossusThat's stirring now beneath the bluffCold day in ChivingtonAnd cold day will soon turn to cold nightAt the Sand Creek Massacre National Historic SiteYou probably won't believe thisBut I stopped drinking liquorJust a beer or two with CesarWhile we're watching footballI even stopped smokingNo, not weed, you must be jokingBut I'd give that up tooIf you'd just return my callIt's been so long since I touched somebodyOr since somebody touched me tooI'm moving back to BoulderBut it makes no sense without youCold day in ChivingtonAnd cold day has now become a cold nightAt the Sand Creek Massacre National Historic Site

4.

It was New Year's DayAnd everything had changedEverything had changedFor you and your two daughtersAnd your wifeFifteen yearsAnd there are still no decent wordsTo recount the saddest storyThat anybody's ever heardBut I'm thankful we've had 75 years. It was New Year’s DayAnd Johnny saw the flamesAnd Johnny saw the smokeRising from the windows of your home. Run away, just as fast as you can fleeWhat's burning in the basem*nt Is beyond both you and me. But, Johnny, we've had 75 years. Another New Year's DayAnd really not that much has changedThe same cowboys playing gamesDifferent players in the same old played-out playNow I can't help but hear your songs as propheciesThe one about the hammer and the sword of Damocles.But I’m thankful we’ve had 75 years.But do you think they built it not to use it?But do you think they built it not to use it?But do you think they built it not to use it?But do you think they built it not to use it?

5.

Waiting on Mecca,Waiting all my lifeJust a little longerAnd one day she will be my wifeShe went by MedeaAt the Pony Up.Went by NefertitiAt Miss Butterfly's Buttercup.Raven-black hairBoth above and below.Nothing finer in the worldNo matter where in the world you go.Her skin is so soft,So soft and so clean…She'll press up against youAnd you'll see just what I mean. But now she hasn't shown And I am all alone I don't have anybody anymore And now it's time to go But I don't have a home I don't have a home to go to anymore And come the day And come Kingdom Come I don't have a single hope anymore.Have you seen Mecca?Where can she be?She was here last week.Why would she do this to me? Now all is Mecca,Mecca everywhere.I see her in my sleepAnd when into my hands I stare.

6.

Right up there at the junctionOf State Routes 46 and 41,A kid was driving west while another headed east, But one of them jumped the gun.The authorities, as they piecedThe story together, never ceasedLaying suspicion on the hotshot from out of town.They should have just called the priest.The sun had begun to go downAs the local boy headed eastbound.He'd made the same turn a hundred times before at speed, But this time the other was comin’ ‘round.It was here together that the Fates agreedTo forever lash Donald TurnupseedTo the death of that fledgling legend of the silver screenWhose body lay waiting to be ID'd.It’s coming at you fast, No time to respond,A laser-guided missile in a 1950 Ford.It’s coming like the weatherOr the slowest, dullest sword: He was here and then he was gone.It was late September, 1955,A perfect day to go on a long drive.He packed a change of clothes and a box of fine cigars.It was the last day of James Dean's life.He was one of Hollywood's rising stars,But the little bastard wanted to race cars.Just 24 years old and he couldn't buy himself a drinkIn any of the nation's bars.He kept that 550 in the pink.And you’d be mistaken if you were to thinkThat he had no business anyplace near a racetrack, But he’d won a few and done it with a wink.What he really wanted was to get backTo Indy to give the 500 a crack. But the studio said, “No way! You’re still under contract.”So he sped off to Salinas with his pack.It’s coming at you fast, No time to respond, A laser-guided missile in a 1950 Ford. It’s coming like the weatherOr the slowest, dullest sword: He was here and then he was gone.He left the city at about 1:15After donuts and a shot of caffeine. He headed north and stopped to top off his tank with gas—Time was running out for Jimmy Dean. He was pulled over for driving too fastJust after 3:00—or was it half past?Even now I’m rooting for him to somehow outmaneuver Fate Before those fateful hours have elapsed.One last stop on the way to his dateAt Maxwell’s Corner to quickly sateHis taste for Coca-Cola and to make a dinner plan. But we know it was already too late.At the junction he saw the sedanPull into his lane as he scanned.He screamed, “He’s got to see us!” to his right-hand man.But one can only do what one can.It’s coming at you fast, No time to respond, A laser-guided missile in a 1950 Ford. It’s coming like the weatherOr the slowest, dullest sword: He was here and then he was gone.Donald Turnupseed died in '95,Forty years after taking that drive.He never mentioned it at all, but it never let him aloneFor as long as he was alive.He hitchhiked all the way home From the junction which was all a’glitter with chrome. His pregnant wife was waiting like so many times before, But when she saw him she was chilled to the bone. “What happened, Don? You look a horror.”“Well, I made a left and smashed up the Ford.”He was mad, ecstatic, spooked, and positively terrified, Unsettled to his very core.She went over to her husband's side, But he wouldn't even look at his young bride. She asked what happened to the guy in the other ride. All he said was, "The other guy died." It’s coming at you fast, No time to respond, A laser-guided missile in a 1950 Ford. It’s coming like the weatherOr the slowest, dullest sword: They were here and now they're gone.

7.

Everyone loves our little townFrom parts unknown they come around They come from high, they come from lowThey come from Maine and IdahoThey come for sea, they come for sunThey come believing they're the oneBut they all leave this place, you seeEveryone leaves eventually We said good-bye to Jeff and KateWhen they moved back to her home stateWe've said good-bye so many timesWe've said good luck so many times There go Catherine and BillI love you now and always willWe always say we'll keep in touchWe always mean to keep in touchIt's not that I'm stuckIt's that I don't want to goI don't like it muggyAnd I'm lost in the snow. But each time someone leavesIt's like a part of me diesAnd it feels like the worldHas diminished in sizeIt's too expensive, we're too oldWe're no longer young and boldThe city can be quite a trialIt gets to you after a while The traffic sucks, the air is badNo decent living to be hadKeeps getting hotter every yearThe hill's on fire over hereIt's not that I'm smugOr that I'm taking a standBut you can never outrunThe problems at handAnd each time someone leavesIt's like a part of me diesAnd it feels like the worldHas diminished in sizeEveryone loves our little townFrom parts unknown they come around They come from high, they come from lowI watch 'em come, I watch 'em go

8.

I once lived in New York City –I was lonely in the crowd. Way out here, it's so quiet and pretty. But my thoughts, my thoughts, my thoughtsHave become so loud. When I'm gone, I always feel so homesick. I wonder if it's the same for you. Rushing through the airport traffic –Then when I'm home, I'm home, I'm home, I feel homesick too. Will you let me in, Drain a bottle of gin, Lead a life of sin, Take it slowly as it bendsAnd ride the highway till it ends? I wanted fame and recognition. I was hoping to catch a break. You gotta have more than ambition, But the shame, the shame, the shameWas more than I could take. Now my son, raised with country mannersAnd good looks to take your breath, Has a truck full of guns and banners. But my son, my son, my son –He scares me to death. Will you let me in, Drain a bottle of gin, Lead a life of sin, Take it slowly as it bendsAnd ride the highway till it ends?

9.

Let me take you down to Strawberry FieldsBut don't be frightened by what the harvest yieldsLet me take you down to Cripple CreekAnd let the water clean your cheekLet me take you downTo the edge of townLet me take you down to where the crossroads meetBut don't be frightened by the blood on the streetLet me take you down to Highway 61Where the blacktop melts in the sunLet me take you downThe boys are back in townWe were sleeping in our beds when the glass shatteredWe were dancing in the club, then we all scatteredWe were screaming in the night, our voices shreddedNot a one was unaware, but no one said itLet me take you down to Joshua TreeBut don't be frightened by the ghosts you seeLet me take you down to Route 66We'll be way out in the sticksLet me take you downTo the edge of townLet me take you down to Dead Man's CurveBut don't be daunted if you lose your nerveLet me take you down to St. James InfirmaryThey'll treat you right, you'll seeLet me take you downThe boys are back in townWe were sleeping in our beds when the glass shatteredWe were praying in the mosque, then we all scatteredWe were running through the night, our feet were shreddedNot a one was unaware, but no one said itI'd give anything to make your fall softerBut this monument is all I can offerIt was a perfect Thursday morning in late JuneIt was the kind of day that always ends too soon

The kernel of the idea that became Falling out the Window of a Tall Building came to me while I was watching Bicycle Dreams, a documentary about a bike race called Race Across America. At one point in the film, one of the cyclists, an upbeat middle-aged orthopedic surgeon from Iowa named Bob Breedlove, was killed by a pickup truck driven by a 15-year-old boy. It is a jarring moment in the film. One moment, Bob Breedlove is happily cycling and chit-chatting with the camera crew, the next, he's dead on the side of the road.

This violent, jarring moment, and others like it, became the inspiration for the album. I was interested in capturing that moment, exploring it, detailing the death and the hole it leaves in its survivors, as well as investigating the violence that pervades our culture (and world) more generally.

The title track, which opens the album, is a reference to the political violence that has become commonplace in Vladimir Putin’s Russia (one often hears about journalists and other Putin critics being thrown out of windows). Simultaneously, it draws a comparison between falling out of a window to the floating-in-freefall sensation one experiences when falling in love. With its Beach Boys-influenced vocal interlude, it also acts as an invocation of the rock-and-roll deities to begin the album.

“Drink and Destroy” takes place at the Route 91 Harvest music festival on October 1, 2017, otherwise known as the venue of the Las Vegas shooting that left hundreds of concertgoers dead. The lyrics suggest that there is something in the American mythos that traps us all in its violence.

“The Sand Creek Massacre National Historic Site” refers to the site outside of Chivington, Colorado, that memorializes the destruction of a Native American village by the U.S. Army in the American Indian Wars. The protagonist visits the memorial and reflects on his own relationship problems while taking in the site.

“75 Years (for Bryan Harvey)” looks back at the senseless murder of House of Freaks singer-songwriter-guitarist Bryan Harvey and his family on New Year’s Day of 1996, while it also, 35 years later, seeks to update the House of Freaks song “40 Years,” a song penned by Harvey about our collective survival since the advent of the nuclear age.

“75 Years” segues into “Mecca,” a ballad told from the perspective of a desperate, down-on-his-luck man who has fallen in love with a stripper. When the stripper fails to show up to work on this particular night, the man becomes hopelessly unmoored.

Over the second half of the album, the theme turns more narrowly to death on the highway, specifically to James Dean’s death in "The James Dean Memorial Junction," and then to Bob Breedlove’s death in "Monument Valley," while “Till It Ends” invokes the highway as a metaphor for escape.

“The James Dean Memorial Highway” isn’t about Dean’s stardom, per se; it instead details the last day of his life, as he packed his clothes and picked up coffee and hit the road for Salinas, though we know he didn’t make it there. He was only 24 years old when he died at the junction of California State Routes 46 and 41.

“Everybody Leaves” is about the complicated city of Los Angeles. Didn’t one of those big Boomer bands from the ‘70s write that you can check out anytime you want but you can never leave? This is pretty much the same thing, only without the epic guitar solo.

In “Till It Ends,” the protagonist has surveyed the political landscape and urban/rural divide in this country and opted to take to the highway in a futile effort to escape it all.

“Monument Valley” is sung from the perspective of the aforementioned cyclist, Bob Breedlove, to his son, William, after he has been slammed into and killed on Highway 12 in Colorado. The album closer closes on a sustained E-minor chord that slowly fades out into a wisp and then finally, inexorably, into the nothingness beyond.