|
An open road where I can breathe
|
Where the lowest low is calling to me
|
I can pull myself back up back down
|
Stuck together like a readymade
|
And nobody knows where we been
|
Canceled rations are running thin
|
Watches tick out of tune
|
Falling apart like a readymade
|
My bags are waiting
|
In the next life
|
Rubbish piles fresh and plain
|
Empty boxes in a pawn shop brain
|
License plates stowaway
|
Standing in line like a readymade
|
And my bags are waiting
|
in the next life
|
An open road where I can breathe
|
Where the lowest low is calling to me
|
I can pull myself back up back down
|
Stuck together like a readymade
|
And my bags are waiting
|
in the next life
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Readymade
|
| Beck |
