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Stuck in the perpetual motion
Dying against the machine The whole thing leaves You a nothing instead of a these The sun is black and the black halos fly And your number is backwards again when you try The sound is so cute when you're 22 When you're 22 Eggs break when you walk on the scramble You're living against the machine The whole thing leaves You a nothing instead of a these The bone is cracked and the cracked eggshells fly And your number is backwards again when you drive The whole thing's removed when you're 22 When you're 22 |
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You're a ghost on the highway
And I'll love you forever Ghost on the highway And I'll love you forever Forever and ever And ever and ever You're always on an island And I'll hold you forever You're always on an island And I'll hold you forever Forever and ever And ever and ever |
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| 8. |
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| 9. |
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I'm flying (x22)
All night long, my body burned White sheets all wet and cold The lights were on, my eyes were gone And any second lose control The pounding in my window Is just the pounding in my head I wonder who was in my room last night Who the hell was in my bed? Ow! There must have been a body there I swear I felt some flesh It took a little time But I figured they were mine There were fingers going down my chest My mouth went through the ceiling and my body fell through the floor I couldn't find the key 'cause there was no one I could see And something went through the door Ow! The cops, the priest, the crisis line And nobody had a clue No one could tell who was touching me Or exactly what I should do My throat was dry and my hopes were high But nothing really ever got said Who was in my room last night? Who the hell was in my bed? Ow! |
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| 10. |
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| 11. |
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Trailer for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents. No phone, no pool, no pets I ain't got no cigarettes Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room I'm a man of means by no means King of the road. Third boxcar, midnight train Destination, Bangor, Maine. Old worn out clothes and shoes, I don't pay no union dues, I smoke old stogies I have found Short, but not too big around I'm a man of means by no means King of the road. I know every engineer on every train All of their children, and all of their names And every handout in every town And every lock that ain't locked When no one's around. I sing, Trailers for sale or rent Rooms to let, fifty cents No phone, no pool, no pets I ain't got no cigarettes Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room I'm a man of means by no means King of the road. |
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