
Date of issue: 13.01.2014
Record label: Vitriol
Song language: English
Midnight Traffic |
A grinding halt on the North 405. |
Just trying to escape, that’s when I hear you sigh: «I hate this fucking town. |
I hope I never come back.» |
You roll your window up. |
And it’s so plain to see, like we’re staring into the bright side of this moon. |
And we’re just running away in the dead of the night. |
But we’re stuck in reverse in a sea of crimson lights. |
We sit in silence. |
You turn the volume up. |
I check the rearview and see the fire trucks. |
We don’t say nothin', but that says everything. |
And we ain’t moving… Somehow the miles, they grow between. |
Like the distance, the years, and all the places that we’ve been… The basements, |
the graves, it’s an endless pile-up of love, of hate, of midnight traffic in |
my guts. |
And it’s so obvious to me the things I once could not see. |
We’re just running away in the dead of the night. |
But we’re stuck in reverse amidst emergency lights. |
The lights are flashing, the siren sounds, and through the jaws of life the |
blood spreads thick on the ground. |
But we ain’t stopping. |
And we ain’t turning around. |
I’ve got my foot to the floor, head first straight into midnight traffic. |
No, we ain’t turning around. |
We ain’t stopping, no, and we ain’t turning around. |
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