Cigarette smoke dances back in the window
And I can see the haze on the dome light.
I'm conjuring ghosts on a forty-hour ride home.
And they keep asking me what I'm doing with my life,
While my cousins go to bed with their wives.
I'm feeling like I've fallen behind.
.
Well the highway won.
I'm listening to traffic reports,
One on one, coming quietly undone.
I was born to run away from anything good
An escape artist's son
With sun-drenched pavement in my blood.
.
The first thing that I do when I walk in
Is plan a way out for when sh*t gets bad
.
And I've been looking for tears in the screen door.
in the screen
I've been waiting for another disaster.
.
I'm terrified like a kid in the sixties,
Staring at the sky waiting for the bomb to fall.
It's all a lie, what they say about stability.
It scares me sometimes,
The emptiness I see in my