| Can you hear the crickets?
|
| All I hear is crickets
|
| Like a river
|
| Shining through the edges of my sight
|
| The sky is pitch black, dark
|
| Yet somehow really peaceful
|
| At the same time
|
| It gets dark in the morning
|
| Trade sleep for drinks in a bar
|
| I’m sure as hell my breath stinks
|
| Watch it float like smoke in the fog
|
| I can feel a tornado
|
| And it’s shivering up my arms
|
| I’ve been playing dominoes
|
| I’m just trying not to wreck no cars
|
| Putting fear in my nose
|
| And trying to keep up with all my thoughts
|
| If we’re going somewhere, I’m ready
|
| If it’s just dirt, I’m not
|
| I scrape my eye when I touch the sky
|
| And lose a little vision for the man
|
| I can call it in my mind
|
| I don’t want to hold nobody’s hand
|
| I can toss in the morning light
|
| I’ll play dead when I’m buried in the sand
|
| I’m seeing shadows of man a who’s
|
| Homeless, buried and numb
|
| A forecast of forgotten land
|
| I hope it shows up in the setting sun
|
| If we’re going somewhere, I’m ready
|
| Honey, if it’s nowhere, I’m done
|
| I can hear a voice but it’s speaking code
|
| (Poured concrete on top, concrete on top, concrete)
|
| Like I’m talking to strangers on a foreign phone
|
| I can talk to angels when I’m all alone
|
| They take me to a place in the city
|
| And when we’re done they take me home
|
| Can’t find a forest with the singing birds
|
| Instead I’m just a low voice in the crowd
|
| Can’t hear my own voice in this crowd
|
| I get edgy on dark streets
|
| Coming home, I feel my heartbeat
|
| I say I’m stoned for the last time
|
| I do it again and repeat
|
| I’m carpooling to kingdom come
|
| Into the wild purgatory
|
| Experiencing a magic rainbow
|
| All you got to do is follow
|
| And if you’re not feeling ready
|
| There’s always tomorrow
|
| And if you’re not feeling ready
|
| There’s always tomorrow |