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Ripped off, you smoked the Bible. |
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Rolled it up, your last breath hot on my back. |
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You get me started, try to get somewhere |
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You move so slow, you're not even here. |
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Dear traveller, |
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It's my death, my rhythm, my arithmetic. |
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I got used to nobody riding in the back. |
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Sorrow blowin' through the vents, |
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I'm over Houston. |
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You're over the night we met. |
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Dear traveller, |
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The she scared electricity |
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Where no human carries a map. |
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You say you gotta burn to shine, |
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But every prism unwinds. |
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A road to ruin and this ticket's mine. |
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Dear traveller |
