Every road has a story to tell. The dreams that have soared, the dreams that fell. Of finding that level that says out of control. Prospecting riches that reside in the soul.
The faces we carried broke apart. Believe in the powered distance fade. From the dying dust a marauding shine. For the shedded skin and soul. . Smile upon the chaos streams.
Blind spot of a lifetime this litter. Pretty fingers on the phone. Non violent grace, this religion. No one wants to be alone. . Reclaim the rust that northern birds take.
I've had strychnine, I thought I was dead. I snorted my father and I'm still alive. I did it because that's how it is done. I'm the same as everyone, just kinda lucky.
Stuck in a hotel in Amsterdam. It's about sundown for you. Your sleep doesn't happen easy. Choice words for the pay phone that doesn't work. . You buy up some cocaine and heroin.
There's more to this than waiting. Lined for you I'm searching for understanding. In this world, outside that heartache. . Your heart is your fortress.
Hopeless heroes beat this clap-trap haven. Rats are bigger than the noise, this generation. Who the hell is Tod Jones anyway?. Society's bombs on a cafeteria trail.
What do you want? Where do you find it?. You can call it what you will. The sound of heartbreak from a jail cell. Finding work in bar all nights. Jukebox letters and numbers.
Can't taste holy water.. Can't find it in a well.. Been doing a lot of thinking,. Thinking about hell.. . Thinking about the ozone.. Thinking about lead..
The waves came down but the world never wanted. Hearts press on anyway and until. Where there's smoke there's fire, faith has charm. But faith can destroy.
Drifting and turned, double edge dance. Hearts burn with the wind to find their way. Words that connect, never gain enough traction. Thus forever blown astray.
Love is the pavement. With spit in your heart. Slow diamond's no laughter. Sweep the hellhound trail. . Translate the faces. Wash off the dust. Smoke plume twilight.
Facing the crossroads we've come to. Waited and we're sinking thoughts of heresy. It's been slow, a good show, just the same. Been hanging on so long, hanging on for so long.
US highway from north to south.. It's history breathing.. Get out from under the gun. And drive down Highway 61.. . Hannibal's son saw the Gold Rush,.
Written about to death. Around for another breath. The cops will run. The masses will flow. Killed by consolidation. Killed by saturation. The underground will correct.
When the world wants right and wrong. Could you break me the news. If I asked you to lie. Would you tell me the truth. . In this darkest hour. A brave face will break soon.
You're on the wild side,. You're out wind and free. A lot's wrong in this darkness. You're the sight that's always seen. I don't worry for what comes around.
Who'll work the assembly line?. Who'll pull the freight on time?. Who'll work the all night haul?. Who'll explain it all when the wheels don't move?. .
A mobile means to make the time. A whirlwind half mast the senses. . Shaking your own brand of rhyme. Shaking your own brand of rhyme. . On wide avenues the air moves the sound.
Still breaking through, still breaking, breaking through, still. The dogs have drowned, stealing young. Slow motion highway, dreams of dust. 80s and hearts are burning through.