|
(What, what is it that you want?) |
|
(What is it that you want?) |
|
She don't lift her head for nothing |
|
She don't lift her head for no one |
|
30 years have glazed her eyes |
|
Her tongue is dry from asking why |
|
Why (why) all my ideas |
|
Peel and turn to rust (why) |
|
Why I feel I must |
|
I guess I'll ask the dust |
|
She's an American highway flower |
|
Walking, blossoming into nowhere |
|
Digesting tailpipes and babies' screams |
|
To fill the hole that used to house her dreams |
|
Why (why) all my ideas |
|
Peel and turn to rust (why) |
|
Why I feel I must |
|
Guess I'll ask the dust |
|
I guess I'll ask the dust |
|
I guess I'll ask the dust |
|
(solo) |
|
(undecipherable whispering) |
|
"I wonder what I'm doing here" |
|
She asks the moon but he don't care |
|
He's busy shinin' on the lucky |
|
In the dark she swims toward nothing |
|
Towards nothing |
|
Why (why) all my ideas |
|
Peel and turn to rust (why) |
|
Why I feel I must |
|
Why (why) all my ideas |
|
Peel and turn to rust (why) |
|
Why I feel I must |
|
Guess I'll ask the dust |
|
I guess I'll ask the dust |
