Sure I came out here to make my name. Wanted my pool, my dose of fame. Wanted my parking space at Warner's. But after a year, a one room hell. A murphy bed, a rancid smell.
RUSTY. When you good nights have been said. And you are lying in bed. With the covers pulled up tight. And though you count every sheep. You get the feeling that sleep.
When the night is darkest, open up your mind. Dream begins, it's becoming clearer. Listen to the distant, listen and you'll find. A midnight train is getting nearer.