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
|
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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
|
|
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, back home
|
|
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Uppers Aren't Neccesary
|
| Rocky Votolato |
