| the heat is so great
|
| it plays tricks with the eye
|
| it turns the road to water
|
| and then from water to sky
|
| and there’s a crack in the concrete floor
|
| and it starts at the sink
|
| there’s a bathroom in a gas station
|
| and i’ve locked myself in it to think
|
| and back in the city
|
| the sun bakes the trash on the curb
|
| the men are pissing in doorways
|
| and the rats run in herds
|
| i’ve got a dream of your face
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| that scares me awake
|
| i put too much on my table
|
| and now i got too much a stake
|
| and i might let you off easy
|
| yeah i might lead you on i might wait for you to look for me and then i might be gone
|
| where i come from and where i’m going
|
| and i’m lost in between
|
| i might go up to that phone booth
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| and leave a veiled invitation on you machine
|
| and you’ll stop me, won’t you
|
| if you’ve heard this one before
|
| the one where i surprise you
|
| by showing up at your front door
|
| saying 'let's not ask what’s next,
|
| or how, or why'
|
| i am leaving in the morning
|
| so let’s not be shy
|
| the door opens, the room winces
|
| the housekeeper comes in without a warning
|
| and i squint at the muscular motel lady
|
| says 'hey good morning'
|
| and she jumps, her keys jingle
|
| and she leaves as quick as she came in and i roll over and taste the pillow with my grin
|
| well, the sheets are twisted and tangled
|
| and the heat is so great
|
| and i swear i can feel the mattress
|
| sinking underneath your weight
|
| oh sleep is like a fever
|
| and I’m glad when it ends
|
| and the road flows like a river
|
| and pulls me around every bend
|
| and you’ll stop me, won’t you…
|
| the heat is so great
|
| it plays tricks with the eye
|
| it turns road to water
|
| and water to sky
|
| and there’s a crack in the concrete floor
|
| and it starts at the sink
|
| there’s a bathroom in a gas station
|
| and i’ve locked myself
|
| in it to think
|
| and you’ll stop me, won’t you… |