No Road Home

Banana For Scale

Wayne 2

Banana For Scale

Southern hard rock, swamp-rock

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[Intro — grinding guitar riff; bass and drums lock into a fast, heavy groove]

[Verse 1]
Bonnie kept a pencil in the pocket of her coat,
Wrote on scraps of paper while the engine smoked.
Clyde watched the mirror, drummed the steering wheel,
Waiting for the darkness with his boot against the steel.
Coffee from a flask and a heel of bread,
She read him half a verse; he watched the road ahead.
“Finish it tomorrow,” he said, slipping into gear—
She folded up the paper when the headlights caught a deer.

[Pre-Chorus]
Another stolen motor, another tank of gas,
Every town behind them had a reason they drove fast.

[Chorus]
Drive, Clyde, drive—keep your eyes on the road!
Bonnie’s got her head down, trying to sleep through the cold.
White lines vanish where the headlights fall,
They’ve got each other; they’ve got nothing else at all.
Drive, Clyde, drive till the morning comes—
Too far gone, and no road home!

[Verse 2]
Their photograph was staring from a filling-station stand,
Bonnie saw it first and caught him by the hand.
He left the change behind him; she climbed back inside,
They passed a Sunday family heading for a Sunday drive.
Somewhere there were empty chairs and shutters pulled down tight,
People counting footsteps in the middle of the night.
She turned their picture over on the seat beside her knee—
The smiling pair looked younger than they’d ever get to be.

[Pre-Chorus]
He asked her what was wrong; she said, “Just get us gone.”
The tyres threw the gravel, and the radio stayed on.

[Guitar Solo — snarling slide guitar; second lead answers, building into frantic harmony]

[Bridge — slow, ominous swamp-rock groove]
He talked about a house where they could leave the curtains wide,
She asked him who would pay for it; he laughed and let it slide.
She wanted him beside her with his gun belt on the floor,
A night without him waking at a footstep near the door.
By dawn she’d stopped pretending she could sleep against the glass—
Lay her hand across his wrist and watched the pine trees pass.

[Final Chorus — full band; urgent, strained vocal]
Drive, Clyde, drive—keep your eyes on the road!
Bonnie’s got her head down, trying to sleep through the cold.
White lines vanish where the headlights fall,
They’ve got each other; they’ve got nothing else at all.
Drive, Clyde, drive till the morning comes—
Too far gone, and no road home!

[Outro — riff slows; low, close vocal]
A narrow road in daylight.
A truck beside the lane.
His foot came off the throttle—
Then the glass came down like rain.

[Band stops dead]

[Exposed vocal]
A pencil in her pocket.
A verse he’d never hear.

[One low guitar note rings out]

2936/7500

[Intro — grinding guitar riff; bass and drums lock into a fast, heavy groove] [Verse 1] Bonnie kept a pencil in the pocket of her coat, Wrote on scraps of paper while the engine smoked. Clyde watched the mirror, drummed the steering wheel, Waiting for the darkness with his boot against the steel. Coffee from a flask and a heel of bread, She read him half a verse; he watched the road ahead. “Finish it tomorrow,” he said, slipping into gear— She folded up the paper when the headlights caught a deer. [Pre-Chorus] Another stolen motor, another tank of gas, Every town behind them had a reason they drove fast. [Chorus] Drive, Clyde, drive—keep your eyes on the road! Bonnie’s got her head down, trying to sleep through the cold. White lines vanish where the headlights fall, They’ve got each other; they’ve got nothing else at all. Drive, Clyde, drive till the morning comes— Too far gone, and no road home! [Verse 2] Their photograph was staring from a filling-station stand, Bonnie saw it first and caught him by the hand. He left the change behind him; she climbed back inside, They passed a Sunday family heading for a Sunday drive. Somewhere there were empty chairs and shutters pulled down tight, People counting footsteps in the middle of the night. She turned their picture over on the seat beside her knee— The smiling pair looked younger than they’d ever get to be. [Pre-Chorus] He asked her what was wrong; she said, “Just get us gone.” The tyres threw the gravel, and the radio stayed on. [Chorus] Drive, Clyde, drive—keep your eyes on the road! Bonnie’s got her head down, trying to sleep through the cold. White lines vanish where the headlights fall, They’ve got each other; they’ve got nothing else at all. Drive, Clyde, drive till the morning comes— Too far gone, and no road home! [Guitar Solo — snarling slide guitar; second lead answers, building into frantic harmony] [Bridge — slow, ominous swamp-rock groove] He talked about a house where they could leave the curtains wide, She asked him who would pay for it; he laughed and let it slide. She wanted him beside her with his gun belt on the floor, A night without him waking at a footstep near the door. By dawn she’d stopped pretending she could sleep against the glass— Lay her hand across his wrist and watched the pine trees pass. [Final Chorus — full band; urgent, strained vocal] Drive, Clyde, drive—keep your eyes on the road! Bonnie’s got her head down, trying to sleep through the cold. White lines vanish where the headlights fall, They’ve got each other; they’ve got nothing else at all. Drive, Clyde, drive till the morning comes— Too far gone, and no road home! [Outro — riff slows; low, close vocal] A narrow road in daylight. A truck beside the lane. His foot came off the throttle— Then the glass came down like rain. [Band stops dead] [Exposed vocal] A pencil in her pocket. A verse he’d never hear. [One low guitar note rings out]

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