Morning broke out the backside of a truck-stop
The end of a line a real, rainbow-likeing, luck stop
Where you could say I became chronologically «sick and
Ashamed and happy».
Put ten bucks in just to get the tank topped off.
Then, I found a place it’s dark and it’s rotted.
It’s a cool, sweet kinda-place
Where the copters won’t spot it
And I destroyed the map, I even thought I forgot it,
However, every-day I’m dumping the body.
It’d be better for us if you don’t understand.
It’d be better for me if you don’t understand
They don’t know how old I am,
They found armour in my belly
From the 16th century, conquistador, I think.
They don’t know how old I am,
They found armour in my belly.
Passion out of machine-revving tension, lashing
Out at machiine-revving tension, brushing by the
Machine-revving tension.