Higher and Drier

I used to be an artist, or I thought I could have been

Mixing up vermillion from titanium and red

Shouting down on Telegraph with Mario and Phil

Painting in the evenings before crawling into bed

Sometime in the 70’s the scales fell away

Dwindling attendance, inspiration running thin

Keeping up the payments on the place in Morro Bay

The moneylenders on me in the Santa Ana wind

I was higher and drier

Higher and drier

Higher and drier

Than I’d ever been before

I got into the business just before I got divorced

I found a knack for selling things as long as they weren’t mine

The houses on the coastline almost gave themselves away

The ones up in the mountains took a bit more of my time

But when the bubble burst, manmade lakes turned into sand

Savings built on real estate in smoke before their eyes

Families moving inland, subprime mortgages in hand

Gambling their fortunes on the Sacramento skies

They were higher and drier

Higher and drier

Higher and drier

Than they’d ever been before

Meet me at the bottom of the driveway on the hill

I’ve got the combination to the lockbox on the door

It’s a bungalow with three beds on an acre and a half

There’s an unimpeded view of Clear Lake from the second floor

It’s been for sale by owner but it’s foreclosed on now

No doubt you’ve read about the recent drought that’s made it hard

I have no obligation to tell you why and how

But I see your plates from Michigan, so here are all the cards

This place might still be standing here in 20 years or more

Or it could be ashes full of pieces of your lives

They’ll sell you quite a policy, but premiums have soared

And if you go without, you’ll be left more than high and dry

You’ll be higher and drier

Higher and drier

Higher and drier

Than you’ve ever been before