The sun came up with no conclusions. Flowers sleeping in their beds. The city cemetery’s humming, I’m wide awake it’s morning.
I have my drugs I have my woman. They keep away my loneliness. My parents they have their religion, but sleep in separate houses.
I read the body count out of the paper. And now it’s written all over my face. No one ever plans to sleep out in the gutter. Sometimes that’s just the most comfortable place.
So now I’m drinking, breathing, writing, singing. Everyday I’m on the clock. My mind races with all my longings. But can’t keep up with what I got.
So I hope I don’t sound too ungrateful, what history gave modern men. A telephone to talk to strangers, a machine gun and a camera lens.
So when you’re asked to fight a war that’s over nothing. It’s best to join the side that’s going to win. And no one’s sure how all of this got started. But we’re going to make them goddamn certain how it’s going to end.
I could have been a famous singer, if I had someone else’s voice. But failure’s always sounded better, let’s fuck it up boys. Make some noise.