wadejunkie
07/10/03, 02:30 PM
im going down town
where the lights hit my face
because of tired of the trees
and how everythings green
im just needing noise and some wind so im leaving today
the buildings are tall
and the girls are amazing
the air is so cold
and the food is great tasting
all the colors are so bright at night i can see every shade
there are nations to visit
with all kinds of people
who all speak their country
ill always be able to
go where i want, theres no reason to not go
the roads are so busy
and mostly in yellow
like oceans on earth
they grow and they swallow
the land, inhabitants everywhere feeling alone
i dont know what you thought of me, but im gone.
i look up to heaven
but the sky isnt there
like all the blue and
all the clouds disappeared
except a big mass of fog that just hangs in the air and rests on top of the steel
the streets lack of money
the people lack health
they say youll always be sick
if you never have wealth
its a sick time we live in, a sick song we sing, and its always a sing touch we feel
when the sun goes down
all the players hustle out
they pound drums for money
entertain by mouth
they all set up stands ane with a wave of a hand theyll make a moment of you for a while
we're all going home
to our place in the sky
there are none on the floor
they all seem to be high
above streets made of charcoal, they put out the fire by the mile
i dont know what you thought of me, but im gone.
(incomplete)
where the lights hit my face
because of tired of the trees
and how everythings green
im just needing noise and some wind so im leaving today
the buildings are tall
and the girls are amazing
the air is so cold
and the food is great tasting
all the colors are so bright at night i can see every shade
there are nations to visit
with all kinds of people
who all speak their country
ill always be able to
go where i want, theres no reason to not go
the roads are so busy
and mostly in yellow
like oceans on earth
they grow and they swallow
the land, inhabitants everywhere feeling alone
i dont know what you thought of me, but im gone.
i look up to heaven
but the sky isnt there
like all the blue and
all the clouds disappeared
except a big mass of fog that just hangs in the air and rests on top of the steel
the streets lack of money
the people lack health
they say youll always be sick
if you never have wealth
its a sick time we live in, a sick song we sing, and its always a sing touch we feel
when the sun goes down
all the players hustle out
they pound drums for money
entertain by mouth
they all set up stands ane with a wave of a hand theyll make a moment of you for a while
we're all going home
to our place in the sky
there are none on the floor
they all seem to be high
above streets made of charcoal, they put out the fire by the mile
i dont know what you thought of me, but im gone.
(incomplete)