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Lead me through these cities of imaginary trends
something's gonna be changing come the morning time my friend
as fickle as these streets are they might not even wait around till then I've got a lot to loose so come and take it from me quick everything you loose if it makes you stronger it makes you sick take these cities from me I'll build buildings up with my own bare hands
the uppers aren't necessary the guilt is the coal that keeps the fire burning to drive out the cold
that creeps in every corner crack and never leaves you alone
till the lonely messengers come calling you back home
the trees are stacked in rows on the side of the road
stripped of any dignity a birthing may have had
100 thousand crucified on the Mojave I-5 line singers shepherds and salesmen all longing for someone to kill the joy of wondering and end all their desire to help them to remember that the road is nothing but a liar the uppers aren't necessary the guilt is the coal
that keeps the fire burning to drive out the cold
that creeps in every corner crack and never leaves you alone
till the lonely messengers come calling you back
to the red door, cracked and crooked walk way
the fence impaling the stars
ghostly keepers lead the way through railroads of abandoned cars the tracks and city streets cut through like scars
HATA BİLDİR
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