Billboards promise paradise. And tattoos "done while you wait". Possible futures all laid out. On the sweeping curve of the interstate. . Got no city, got no land.
The hours grow shorter as the days go by. You never get to stop and open your eyes. One day you're waiting for the sky to fall. The next you're dazzled by the beauty of it all.
Bruce Cockburn. Life Short Call Now. Billboards promise paradise. And tattoos "done while you wait". Possible futures all laid out. On the sweeping curve of the interstate.
I'm sipping Flor De Caña and lime juice, it's three a.m.. Blow a fruit fly off the rim of my glass. The radio's playing Superchunk and the friends of Dean Martinez.