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 lose So come and take it from me quick Everything you lose 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