Last car to pass, here I go!

Asia's crowded and Europe's too old
Africa is far too hot
And Canada's too cold
And South America stole our name OIL
Let's drop the big one
There'll be no one left to blame us

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread...

A beach is a place where a man can feel
He's the only soul in the world that's real
But I see a face coming through the haze
I remember him from those crazy days

Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes
They call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letterbox
They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe

Did you get it? You're just another fish in the sea.

Wouldn't matter to me with an open heart.

Then, get behind me Satan
Quit ravishing the land

When you die and they lay you to rest
You're gonna go to the place that's the best.

I hope. 

hollow to hold the music

Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain

She loves her man and lets him know
Every way she can
Soul on soul, hand in hand
Together

 ColdMiser wrote:

Kids want a savior, they don't need a fake
I wanna be elected

Who'll be the last clown
To bring the house down

I had my hands in the river, my feet back up on the banks
Looked up to the lord above and said, Hey, man, thanks

Living in the wasteland of the free...

We got preachers dealing in politics and diamond mines
And their speech is growing increasingly unkind
They say they are Christ's disciples
But they don't look like Jesus to me
And it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

We got politicians running races on corporate cash
Now don't tell me they don't turn around and kiss them peoples' ass
You may call me old-fashioned
But that don't fit my picture of a true democracy
And it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

We got CEO's making two hundred times the workers' pay
But they'll fight like hell against raising the minimum wage
And If you don't like it, mister, they'll ship your job
To some third-world country 'cross the sea
And it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

Living in the wasteland of the free
Where the poor have now become the enemy
Let's blame our troubles on the weak ones
Sounds like some kind of Hitler remedy
Living in the wasteland of the free

We got little kids with guns fighting inner city wars
So what do we do, we put these little kids behind prison doors
And we call ourselves the advanced civilization
That sounds like crap to me
And it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

We got high-school kids running 'round in Calvin Klein and Guess
Who cannot pass a sixth-grade reading test
But if you ask them, they can tell you
The name of every crotch on MTV
And it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

We kill for oil, then we throw a party when we win
Some guy refuses to fight, and we call that the sin
But he's standing up for what he believes in
And that seems pretty damned American to me
And it feels like I am living in the wasteland of the free

Living in the wasteland of the free
Where the poor have now become the enemy
Let's blame our troubles on the weak ones
Sounds like some kind of Hitler remedy
Living in the wasteland of the free

While we sit gloating in our greatness
Justice is sinking to the bottom of the sea
Living in the wasteland of the free
Living in the wasteland of the free
Living in the wasteland of the free

~Iris Dement/1996

Nights
Fading fast
Made to live
Made to last

And the beat goes on

The beat goes on

Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain

La-di-da-di-di

La-di-da-di-da

crimson and clover
over and over