| I sit on the porch in a dying town
|
| I’m out of my head while I watch the sun go down
|
| There’s a dog all alone at the end of the street
|
| He’s standing still, staring back at me
|
| Beaten, snarling, scarred and gray
|
| He doesn’t say a word but I still hear him say
|
| «You can’t hide from your own mind
|
| But I can tell that you’ve been trying
|
| You’re caught between the past and present tense
|
| Drinking your way to confidence»
|
| I stare out at Kansas, it stares back at me
|
| It’s all I am, it’s all that I can’t be
|
| I’m miles from those twisted, dark highways where the cars scream by
|
| But I still hear them say
|
| «You can’t hide from your own mind
|
| But I can tell that you’ve been trying
|
| You’re caught between the past and present tense
|
| Drinking your way to confidence»
|
| Living in fear in the land of the free
|
| Threatened by invisible enemies
|
| You’ve got a sinking feeling that makes you so unsure
|
| They’ve been saying all you need to do is ignore it
|
| So you take what you get and you can’t regret it
|
| It’ll swallow you whole if you only let it |
| They’re trying to save you from yourself
|
| You keep saying «Go save somebody else»
|
| Now you’re at the edge of your own limitations
|
| So fed up with those old frustrations
|
| And you’re still avoiding ancient confrontations
|
| You don’t know where you’re going or if you care
|
| Dead set on a course to God knows where
|
| You already know you’ll move on before you get there |