In the silver waters. We race each new morning. In the vegetable stream. Long live the dream. The mightiest toughman leads. Into the skeleton forest. On cold ass western wheels.
Every street is dark and folding. Out mysteriously. Where lies the chance we take. To be always working, reaching out for. A hand that we can't see. Everybody's gotta hold on hope.
And now we see eye to eye. That another man's trash is collectible. And every weakness is correctible. Be leaving here quite soon now. Be pushing off to the moon now.