the moon has blocked the sun. that i haven't seen for days. it walks the street as the chimneys burn. i'll drink some beers as i find my way
my way home
th streets were made for horse and cart;
they talk to mine behind close doors. stood in the rain to feel the part
this maze i stand of concrete walls
my way home
suspicious corpse without a face
the screen lights a hidden dim. this black hawk can't find its place
through the night we swim. my way home