Pressure Machine Album

Artist(s): The Killers

Cover Art

The Killers Pressure Machine Cover Art

Tracklist

West Hills

length: 5:43
producer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
piano: Brandon Flowers
vocal: Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Shawn Everett
drums (drum set): Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
synthesizer: Jonathan Rado and Brandon Flowers
guitar: Dave Keuning and Jonathan Rado
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers, Jonathan Rado

(Alright, well I'm twenty-six so I've lived here for twenty-six years)
(I married my high school sweetheart so we've been mar-)
(We've been together eleven years)
(Um, I don't really travel much so I've just been here)

(Uh, I, I'm busy John, you'll just have to wait)
(Uh, my little brother he moved into the community)
(And they tried to tape him to a flag pole or a tree up at the high school)
(So if you don't fit their mold)

(It's just a nice small community, everybody knows everybody)
(Good place to live and to raise kids)
(We'll be here forever so, yeah, it's a good area)

I was born right here in Zion, God's own son
His Holy Ghost stories and bloodshed never scared me none
While they bowed their heads on Sunday
I cut out through the hedges and fields
Where the light could place its hands on my head
In the west hills

Free in the west hills
Free in the west hills

She's got two full-grown children, one still on the vine
And once I got to know him I loved him like he was mine
Some nights we drive up the mouth of the canyon
On hillbilly heroin pills
We get out and watch the sunset
Peaceful and still

Free in the west hills
Free in the west hills

When the sheriff kicked my door down
I was sleeping in my own bed
And the mess I got caught up in
Rained hard down on my head
And they got me for possession of them hillbilly heroin pills
Enough to kill the horses that run free in the west hills
They got me for possession of enough to kill the horses that run

Free in the west hills
Free in the west hills

If this life was meant for proving
I could use more years to live
But fifteen in a guardhouse
That's more than I'm willing to give

And if there really is a judgement
When He pulls my chart
He'll reject my actions
But He will know my heart
And he'll prepare a place for me
Where happiness instills
And the light puts its loving hands on my head
Free in the west hills
They got me for possession of enough to kill the horses that run

Free in the west hills
Free in the west hills
Free, free in the west hills, in the west hills, in the west hills, hills

Quiet Town

length: 4:46
producer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
piano: Jonathan Rado
vocal: Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Shawn Everett
bass: Jonathan Rado
guitar: Jonathan Rado
drums (drum set): Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
synthesizer: Jonathan Rado and Brandon Flowers
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers, Jonathan Rado
(Ah yeah, oh no, the train, the train)
(Every two or three years the train kills somebody)
(Every two, three years, yup)
(Everyone knows about the train, okay, you hear it constantly)
(I think the train is a way to find your way out of this life)
(If you get hit by it)

A couple of kids got hit by a Union Pacific train
Carrying sheet metal and household appliances through the pouring rain
They were planning on getting married after graduation
Had a little baby girl, trouble came and shut it down
Things like that ain't supposed to happen

In this quiet town, families are tight
Good people, they still don't deadbolt their doors at night
In this quiet town

(In this quiet)

When we first heard opioid stories
They were always in whispering tones
Now banners of sorrow mark the front steps of childhood homes
Parents wept through daddy's girl eulogies
And merit badge milestones with their daughters and sons
Laying there lifeless in their suits and gowns
Somebody's been keepin' secrets

In this quiet town, they know how to live
Good people who lean on Jesus, they're quick to forgive
In this quiet town

And whenever I'm near the town I'll find some reason to give
And I will walk with the dead and the living where I used to live
And every time I see my parents in the prime of their lives
Offering their son the kind of love he could never put down
The part of me is still that stainless kid, lucky

In this quiet town, salt of the land
Hard-working people, if you're in trouble, they'll lend you a hand
Here in this quiet town

The first crop of hay is up
School let out and the sun beats down
Smoke billows from a Sunday train
That cries away from a quiet town

Terrible Thing

length: 3:53
producer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
vocal: Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Shawn Everett
guitar: Jonathan Rado
harmonica: Jonathan Rado
synthesizer: Brandon Flowers
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers
The parking lot is rammed with shotgun pickup trucks
At the Jones' Rubber plant where all the guys end up
Beer-drinking boy scouts living life like they ain't stuck
On these quicksand streets with their girls in a sling
I'm in my bedroom on the verge of a terrible thing

'Round here, we all take up our cross and hang on His holy name
But the cards that I was dealt will get you thrown out of the game
Hey momma, can't you see your boy is wrapped up in the strangle silk
Of this cobweb town where culture is king?
I'm in my bedroom on the verge of a terrible thing

I close my eyes and think of the water
Out at the Salt Creek when I was young

Down at Old Mill Park, half the town's in tow
To crown the Bathing Beauty of the rodeo
While her mother fights back proud tears, a young cowboy gives the nod
The chute opens, bull draws blood, and the gift is accepted by God
The chute opens, the bull draws blood, and the gift is accepted by God
In this barbed wire town of barbed wire dreams
I'm in my bedroom on the verge of a terrible thing

I close my eyes and think of the water
Out at the Salt Creek when I was young
I close my eyes and think of the water
Out at the Salt Creek when I was young

Cody

length: 3:51
producer: Shawn Everett and Jonathan Rado
piano: Jonathan Rado
vocal: Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Shawn Everett
bass: Jonathan Rado
organ: Jonathan Rado
percussion: Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
mandolin: Jonathan Rado
drums (drum set): Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
synthesizer: Jonathan Rado and Brandon Flowers
guitar: Jonathan Rado, Ronnie Vannucci Jr. and Dave Keuning
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers, Jonathan Rado, Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
(So higher powers, higher powers, higher powers)
(Higher powers than me, higher powers than me)
(I've seen 'em in the hill, you know, I've seen the spirts you know)
(So, definitely believe in the higher powers)
('Cause I'm just, little ol' human, you know)

Cody says he didn't start the fire
His parents know he probably did
He's always playing with a light
He's just a different kind of kid
And Cody says, "He didn't raise the dead"

Says, "religion's just a trick
To keep hard-working folks in line"
He says it makes his stomach sick

So who's gonna carry us away?
Eagles with glory-painted wings?
We keep on waiting for the miracle to come
Pour down the mountain like a heaven-fed stream

Cody's always got one on the line
He likes to walk 'em by the wrist
He does his pulling with his eyes
He does his talking with his fists
Bottle rockets on an August night
Raid the coolers in the trucks
If we're lucky we'll get loud and we'll drink
Whiskey from a plastic jug

So who's gonna carry us away?
Eagles with glory-painted wings?
We keep on waiting for the miracle to come
Fall from the firmament and give us nice things
'Round and 'round it goes
Where it stops, nobody knows, nobody knows

So who's gonna carry us away?
Eagles with glory-painted wings?
We keep on waiting for the miracle to come
Roll down the mountain to the sound of sad strings
We keep on waiting for the miracle
For the miracle
We keep on waiting for the miracle
For the miracle

Sleepwalker

length: 4:28
producer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
piano: Jonathan Rado
vocal: Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
bass: Jonathan Rado
mandolin: Jonathan Rado
drums (drum set): Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
synthesizer: Brandon Flowers and Jonathan Rado
guitar: Jonathan Rado and Dave Keuning
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers, Jonathan Rado
(Umm, I hunt elk and deer, umm turkey's, just around here)
(Umm I've hunted antelope, umm)
(And growing up we had to be twelve before we could hunt)
(And now they've lowered it to as soon as you pass hunter safety you can hunt so)
(I had to wait 'til I was twelve)
(As long as you can hold up a gun and shoot it)

Hey, sleepwalker, don't you miss the way
Wildflowers paint the western hills?
Or the first autumn whisper mid-September brings
In the glowy excitement that it builds?

Everyone is afraid of something
Even the strongest man alive
Hey, sleepwalker, we went walking in the western hills
And we picked you wildflowers
You gotta open your eyes

Hey, dreamcatcher, come out and see the leaves
The mountainside's all watermelon red
Soon enough, they're gonna rust and fall
Leave the mountainside cold and bare
But when the longer days of sun appear
They'll be rising like an answered prayer and I know that

Everyone is afraid of losing
Even the ones that always win
Hey sleepwalker, when the mountain comes back to life
It doesn't come from without
It comes from within

The hills are barren, but we look for what's to come
Sweeter skies and longer days of sun
When you wake up, I'll be standing in the line
To kiss your eyes and wipe the tears from mine

'Cause everyone is afraid of something
Even the strongest man alive
Hey, sleepwalker, Western Bluebells and Painted Cups are getting ready to rise
It's time to begin
It doesn't come from without
It comes from within

Runaway Horses

length: 3:55
producer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
piano: Jonathan Rado
vocal: Phoebe Bridgers and Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Shawn Everett
organ: Jonathan Rado
drums (drum set): Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
pedal steel guitar: Dave Keuning
guitar: Jonathan Rado and Dave Keuning
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers
(Oh my heck, so yeah, the youth stamped, I mean that's a tradition for sure)
(Umm, one year we were, it was raining all like all stampedes)
(And this horse come out and everyone, you know, said it was supposed to be the best)
(And it fell in the mud and mean you can see it's leg just totally snapped)
(It was just hanging there and the girl you know, laid down)
(It was the saddest thing I mean, I think most of the crowd was crying)
(She set up and laid over her horse and just cried and huged her horse and)
('Cause she knew that, you know, that was her last moments with that horse)

Small town girl, Coca-Cola grin, honeysuckle skin
Born beneath the ready sign of a strawberry moon
Small town girl shows up for her friends, crazy about The Bends

I was there when she first put away childish things

We had spring in our heels
Unwavering forces, headfirst into the unknown
Like runaway horses in a fever 'til the end
And every step is a silver prayer in the face of a hard wind

You traded school for weddings rings and rent
Invitations sent of you and him by a barn out on the edge of town
Small town girl, put your dreams on ice, never thinking twice
Some you'll surely forget and some that you never will

There was a promise in our stride
But we changed courses, headfirst into the unknown
Like runaway horses in a fever 'til the end
And every step is a silver prayer in the face of a hard wind
Like runaway horses, it's a long way back home again
When every step is a silver prayer in the face of a hard wind

In the Car Outside

length: 5:29
producer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
vocal: Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Shawn Everett
bass: Jonathan Rado
percussion: Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
drums (drum set): Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
synthesizer: Jonathan Rado and Brandon Flowers
guitar: Dave Keuning and Jonathan Rado
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers, Jonathan Rado, Dave Keuning
(Hi babe, oh I was just calling ya to tell you)
(I'm probably gonna have to get up at the butt crack of dawn tomorrow)
(Why?)
(Ah, Aunt Patsy's backed out on your mom)
(Damnit John, hmm)
(I lost that fricken steal line)
(Ah, ****, okay, it's alright)
(Go ****ing find it)
(Ah ****, I'm looking man, ****, see I told you my head don't work right)
(Yeah, you don't have to tell me that)

I'm in the car, I just needed to clear my head
She's in the house with the baby crying on the bed
She's got this thing where she puts the walls so high

It doesn't matter how much you love
It doesn't matter how hard you try

We got a place with a fence and a little grass
I put this film on the windows and it looks like chapel glass
But when she turns, it's like the shadow of the cross don't cast
No blessing over our lonely life
It's like waiting for a train to pass
I don't know when it'll pass

But I remember when she used to set the room on fire
With her eyes, swear to god
It's like a flood of grief and sorrow from a haunted life
When she cries, like a train, it's a lot

I dropped a line to a flickering high school flame
We laughed about all the ways that our lives had changed
She's up the road, about thirty-five miles north
Got two little boys in school, just had a real bad divorce
And in a moment of weakness

I told her if she ever needed a helping hand
I would lend, swear to god
It's like the part of me that's screaming not to jump gets lost
In the sound of the train, it's a lot

Trying hard
Not to care

Swear to God

In Another Life

length: 3:46
producer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
vocal: Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
bass: Jonathan Rado
drums (drum set): Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
synthesizer: Jonathan Rado and Brandon Flowers
guitar: Jonathan Rado and Dave Keuning
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers, Jonathan Rado
(Biggest thing I did about drugs in high school)
(Was a going out and drinking a beer)
(But uh, it's all here now, uh and it don't care who it hits)
(There's a lot of Opioids going around)
(It makes you feel pretty damn good)
(After a few hours you gotta to take more)
(And then after a while you're taking a ton and you don't feel great)
(Everyone's just trying to escape something)
(That's it on that)

Is this the life you chose yourself
Or just how it ended up?
Is that the yard you pictured when
You closed your eyes and dreamed
Of children in the grass running through the sprinklers?

Being somebody's wife
Or were you living in another life?

When will I make it home?
When I damn well feel like driving
Down these empty streets
That burn though our birthright

I passed a couple of kids holding hands in the street tonight
They reminded me of us in another life
Am I the man of your desire?
Or just a guy from your hometown?
Are these the arms that you saw when you
Pictured yourself wrapped around?
Baby, I can vouch for the hopeless dreamer
When you look at me, am I the man you hoped I'd be?

When will I make it home?
When that jukebox in the corner
Stops playing country songs of stories that sound like mine

I spent my best years laying rubber on a factory line
I wonder what I would've been in another life
In another life
In another life
In another life

Desperate Things

length: 5:17
producer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
piano: Brandon Flowers
vocal: Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Shawn Everett
guitar: Jonathan Rado
drums (drum set): Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers, Jonathan Rado
She was doing sixty in a thirty-five
I hit the lights and pulled her over
When I reached the window of the driver side
There was blood from her mouth, dry on her shoulder
I've never had much patience for guys that hit
For more than just obvious reasons
I asked if she wanted me to take him in
She laughed it off like lemonade

When you're in love, you can be blinded by your own heart
You'll bend your own truth, so twisted up you could justify sin
And when people in love are desperate enough to abandon their dreams
People do desperate things

I've been taking lunch breaks at her work
When the restaurant ain't too crowded
She knows me and my wife got a little girl
We don't talk too much about it
The other night she met me way out west
Things went further than they should have
When she undid the buttons of her dress
I didn't stop her, but I could have

When you're in love, you can be blinded by your own heart
You'll bend your own truth, so twisted up you could justify sin
But when people in love are desperate enough to abandon their dreams
People do desperate things

I know where he drinks most every night
It's our local hero sports bar
I've got him cuffed and sweating cold
In the back of my patrol car
You forget how dark the canyon gets
It's a real uneasy feeling
I've never had much patience for guys who hit
For more than just obvious reasons

When you're in love, you can be blinded by your own heart
You'll bend your own truth, so twisted up you could justify sin
But when people in love are desperate enough to abandon their dreams
People do desperate things

Pressure Machine

length: 5:10
producer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
vocal: Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Shawn Everett and Jonathan Rado
bass: Jonathan Rado
guitar: Dave Keuning
drums (drum set): Ronnie Vannucci Jr.
synthesizer: Jonathan Rado and Brandon Flowers
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers, Jonathan Rado, Dave Keuning
(We met dragging main at Spanish Fork)
(And he wasn't moving away from here so it wasn't really
(And we could build a house here, anyway)

Hope'll set your eyes agleam
Like four feet dangling in the stream
The kingdom of God, it's a pressure machine
Every step, gotta keep it clean
A mattress on a hardwood floor
Who could ever ask for more?
I'll get up and cut the grass
Ain't nothing wrong with working class

I, I don't remember the last time you asked how I was
Don't you feel the time slipping away?
It ain't funny at all
It's gonna break your heart one day

Keep the debt cloud off the kids
Only sunshine on their lids
Jimmy Cricket and Power Wheels
And memories of Happy Meals
Sometimes I look at the stars
I think about how small we are
Sweating it out in the pressure machine
Good 'til the last drop

Why don't you say little things?
Butterflies don't just dance on a string
It feels like you clipped all their wings
And every year goes by faster than the one before

We had that treadmill now for months
I think she might've used it once
If I shut my mouth and keep the peace
She'll cook my eggs in bacon grease
Life'll grow you a big red rose
Then rip it from beneath your nose
And run it through the pressure machine
And spit you out a name tag memory

The Getting By

length: 5:10
producer: Jonathan Rado and Shawn Everett
vocal: Brandon Flowers
mixer: Shawn Everett
recording engineer: Shawn Everett
synthesizer: Jonathan Rado
guitar: Jonathan Rado
phonographic copyright (℗) by: The Killers
writer: Brandon Flowers, Jonathan Rado
(It's just small town feeling and just live in this small town an)
(Like my kids ride dirt bikes and motorcycles)
(And they just go across the street in the field and ride)
(I can watch them off my front porch)
(Umm, my one boy is into shed horn hunting so he'll take off)
(And go park his truck out west and be gone all day and)
(They, the mountain are just in our backyard, that's the nice part about it)

When I get up, she swears that she don't hear it
Says that I'm as quiet as a mouse
I comb my hair and throw some water on my face
And back out of the stillness of our house
Lately, my patience is in short supply
Nothing good seems to ever come from all this work
No matter how hard I try

You know I believe in the Son, I ain't no backslider
But my people were told they'd prosper in this land
Still, I know some who've never seen the ocean
Or set one foot on a velvet bed of sand
But they've got their treasure laying way up high
Where there might be many mansions
But when I look up, all I see is sky

Maybe it's the getting by that gets right underneath you
It'd swallow up your every step, boy, if it could
But maybe it's the stuff it takes to get up
In the morning and put another day in, son
That holds you 'til the getting's good
Green ribbon front doors, dishwater days
This whole town is tied to the torso of God's mysterious ways

Maybe it's the getting by that gets right underneath you
It'd swallow up your every step, boy, if it could
But maybe it's the stuff it takes to get up
In the morning and put another day in, son
That keeps you standing where you should
So put another day in, son and hold on 'til the getting's good

(Twice a day, twice a day)
(Yeah, twice a day it comes through)
(My grandkids, when it comes through they run out and they look down the road)
('Cause they like to see it go by)