by Scott Winchester
Because you're young you're always crashing in the same car at the speed of life. Teenage wildlife makes you a neighborhood threat. You live in a criminal world shopping for girls across the universe, anyway, anyhow, anywhere after today all the madmen will turn you into ashes to ashes as the world falls down. Outside there is panic in Detroit, sorrow, and sex in the church. All you pretty things realise this is not america, time will crawl into your head and stay after all it only takes one shot... bang bang you'll scream like a baby, you'll bleed like a craze dad will drive his tin machine the width of a circle, station to station searching for a new career in a new town. Your ma is dead against it, you fancy yourself the future legend dancing with the big boys. A conversation piece from suffragette city to Warszawa you belong in rock n roll, a voyeur of utter destruction you're unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed. The shapes of things are feeding on your sense of doubt, under pressure you move on, underground a subterranean kingdom come you have a little wonder, is there life on Mars? After today my fantastic voyage will blackout I'm deranged, so I'll listen to the beat of your drum, like a prayer I keep forgettin' that heaven's in here.
Written by Scott Winchester
|Created: Feb. 2000 © Paul Kinder||Last Updated: 25/2/00|