Lead me through these cities of imaginary trends
Something's gonna be changing
Come the morning time, my friend
As fickle as these streets are
They might not even wait around till then
I've got a lot to lose
So come and take it from me quick
Everything you lose
If it makes you stronger it makes you sick
Take these cities from me
I'll build buildings up with my own bare hands
The uppers aren't necessary, the guilt is the coal
That keeps the fire burning to drive out the cold
That creeps in every corner crack and never leaves you alone
Till the lonely messengers come calling you back home
The trees are stacked in rows on the side of the road
Stripped of any dignity a birthing may have had
100 thousand crucified on the Mojave I-5 line
Singers shepherds and salesmen all longing for someone
To kill the joy of wondering and end all their desire
To help them to remember that the road is nothing but a liar
The uppers aren't necessary, the guilt is the coal
That keeps the fire burning to drive out the cold
That creeps in every corner crack and never leaves you alone
Till the lonely messengers come calling you back to the red door
Cracked and crooked walk way
The fence impaling the stars
Ghostly keepers lead the way
Through railroads of abandoned cars
The tracks and city streets cut through like scars
