jacked-up motor on a wide road

cloud  go back
 


“holy north american motor highway”
(
broadhighway)


JACKED/UP MODOR
ON A WIDE ROAD
JACKED/UP MODOR
ON A WIDE ROAD
JACKED/UP MODOR
ON A WIDE ROAD
ON A WIDE ROAD
ON A WIDE ROAD
JACKED-!UP MODOR
ON A WIDE ROAD
ON A WIDE ROAD
ON A WIDE ROAD

JACKED-UP MODOR
OUT OF YOUR WAY
JACKED-UP MODOR
OUT OF YOUR LANE
ON THE WIDE ROAD
ON WIDE ROAD...

THEY PLAY
THESE EMPTY, AWFUL THINGS

THEY PLAY
LIKE NOTHING’S ON THE LINE

GODAMN MISTAKE
THESE WASTED MODOR TUNES

BUT IT DOES NOT QUIT
AS QUIET AS IT IS
         ........

BARE AS THE LUCK OF THE BLIND 
CARELESS, ABANDONDED THE LINES
BELOW

PISTONS THAT PULLED LIKE GRENADES
CANT ALWAYS BE WHAT THEY WANT YOU TO BE
(ON THE WIDE  ROAD)

BURNED ON THE SHOULDER AWHILE
THEN POLISHED AWAY AS WE FELL ASLEEP
(ON THE WIDE ROAD)

LOVELY MOTOR
DON’T GO
LOVELY MOTOR
DONT GO
LOVELY MOTOR
DON’T GO

HOME
HOME
HOME
HOME

AIN’T A MESS WE MADE
AND THE SKY’S SWINGIN’
AINT A MESS WE MADE
OF IT
FOR SURE

AINT A MESS WE MADE
AND THE ROAD’S
SLIPPIN
BELOW
BELOW
BELOW
BELOW...
                   ....
RAINS AROUND THE CAPITOL
WE’RE HIGH AND IN A HOLE

RAINS AROUND THE CAPITOL
WE’RE BUYIN WHAT WE’RE SOLD

THE BEAUTY OF THE URGENCY
GOT CAUGHT UP IN THE TREND


RAINS AROUND THE CAPITOL
SO PUMP THE BREAKS AGAIN
.




“BOUGHT & SOLD AS THE OLD WAYS FADIN’”


WELL DAMN THESE WALLS
KEEPIN LUCID DREAMERS SOUND ASLEEP

AND FUCK THEIR STARS
OURS DO SHINE MORE BRIGHTLY IN THE DARK

AS IF THEIR COULDNT BE ANOTHER WAY
THAN BONES IN GRAVES
THEN HOLIDAYS
FROM WEEKLY PAY

WISH THERE WAS A WAY
CAUSE THE OLD WAYS FADIN
AND WE’RE WAITIN
SO KEEP ON SWAYIN
SO KEEP ON SWAYIN’
CAUSE THE OLD WAYS FADIN’ AWAY
MISSILES SOARIN
PLANES WHISTLIN’ OVERHEAD
SO KEEP ON SWAYIN’
KEEP ON SWAYIN
AND DON’T LET ME DOWN !
BEEN BURNIN RUBBER FOR TOO LONG
FOR TOO LONG
ON BLACK GROUND

COMIN ATCHA ONE MORE TIME
GOIN IN TO FEED THE FIRE
LOVELY AS IT EVER WAS BEFORE IT BURNED

UNDERWATER UPSIDE DOWN
THE AKOHOLS BEEN ISSUED ROUND
THE TABLE JUST TO KEEP THE NOISE AT BAY
OKAY

THE THING THAT DRIVES THE PISTONS ROUND
BEEN LOCKED INSIDE A HALLOW SOUND
DID SCHEME OF LIVING IN THE HIGH FOR GOOD

BUT OH HOW WE FAIL
ADRIFT WITHOUT SAILS
ASLEEP IN OUR CHAIRS
SO BORED OF
BREATHING

A SWIFT KICK, A CLOCK & A DIME,
A STIFF LIP, TOWING THE LINE,
ITS BREAKIN ITS BROKEN IT’LL SURELY GO DOWN
WHEN THE CROWD COMES ALIVE IN THE 12TH BLOODY ROUND
                                 
WITH A HARD STOP, AND, A LOOK IN THE EYES,
GOOD MOTORS SPUTTER AND SIG
H
WE HAD IT AND LOST IT WE SAT ON THE CURB
NOW INVISIBLE VULTURES PATROLLIN THE EARTH
 
          BOUGHT & SOLD AND DISAFFECTED
          BOUGHT AND SOLD BUT BURN AND SWAY
          UNDER THUNDER  QUICK LIKE LIGHTNING
          LONELY EYES FIND THEIR WAY

BEEN DRAGGIN BROKEN PIANOS
BEEN HOLDING ON TOO LONG
BEEN WAITIN ON THE WEATHER
DON”T LET THEIR PROGRESS WIEGH YOU DOWN
DON    LET THEIR  PROGRESS WEIGH YOU DOWN

THEY’RE ONLY HEADLIGHTS.


“MAGNETS PULLING NUMBERED BODIES INTO SUNS”

AIMLESS
ANGER
LIVING
OUR FAILURE
AGAIN

BURNIN’
WAS BURNIN’
HONEST
IN IT

MAGNETS PULLING NUMBERED BODIES INTO SUNS
AIN’T NO WAY TO GIVE A FUCK, MAN
HOLY MOTORS DRIVIN’ ALWAYS ON THE RUN

HEAD ACHIN BEEN MISTAKIN THE SLEEP FOR THE DREAM
THE TIMID STEPPIN OF ANGELS TRIPPIN ON LAUGHTER IN BETWEEN
OLD WISHIN’ THE POINT MISSES THE SIGNAL FOR THE SIGN
THESE LOW BRANCHES BEEN PULLIN ALL THE COLOR FROM THE SKY
AND I AM SORRY

BUT BLIND AS BLIND IS BLIND DOES
AND BAD LUCK BURNS BRIGHT AND SWELLS
COLD MISSILE FALLIN’ DOWN MY STAIRS
TO SEE AND HEAR AND....

AIMLESS / PROGRESS / THRIVIN / NEATH THE EMPTY GEARS
CARELESS / CONQUEST / OF LIGHTNIN’ / CRAMPED BETWEEN THE EARS
PAINLESS / PISTONS / CRACKIN / AND FALLIN INTO FEAR
ON HIWAYS ON HIWAYS ON HIWAYS ALWAYS

A I M L E S S P R O G R E S S T H R I V I N
K E E P O N S W A Y I N




----scraps:






3. SWERVE RIGHTEOUS
CAUSE THOSE FUCKERS
OWN ALL THE ROADS ——
BUT WE’RE THE WIND
WEARING OUT
THE FLAG.

….

ITS DRAGGING & WASTED
EMPTY & ASKING
HOW HAS IT BEEN?
TO CUT YOU DOWN

ITS CROOKED  UNCONSCOUS AYYO YA KNOW WE GUNNA FIND A NEW WAY
OR GO BLIND
OR QUIT IGNORING IT

BUT HATE BURNS BRIGHTER WHEN YOU’RE TRYING
HATE BURNS BRIGHTER WHEN YOURE TRAVELLIN’ FRIGHTENED

—— ALL OUR PLANS REST ON A WIRE
         FALL SO NERVOUS UNDER THE TIRES
         BUT WE MAKE EM.

4. BROKEN ARROW
HIDING IN THE SNOW
SEND IT BACK
TO THE RISE
UGLY MONEY IN STRIDE
AND CARS BLOCKIN THE ROAD
FOR THE HOLY MOTOR
NO TIME
SWAY OUT OF LINE 
AND DON’T QUIT

SKYLINE WAS SWINGING
JACKED-UP IN THE LIGHT
COULD IT BE?
BORN BLOODY OR FREE
I’M STILL WATCHING THE ROAD
FOR THE HOLY MOTOR,

    PAY NO MIND
    SWAY OUT OF SPITE 
    AND DON’T QUIT.



 

BENT IN THE BURNING LIGHT

 

THEY OWN THE ROAD

LOST AND IMPOSSIBLY SLOW

I GET UP AND GO

TO THE BURNING LIGHT

 

SPIT ON THEIR GOLD

THEIR PASTURES IMPASSIBLE BELOW

BENT IN THE WIND

OF A BURNING LIGHT

 

AND LET IT BURN LET IT BURN LOW

 

ASLEEP ON THE ROAD

PASSED OUT IMPOSSIBLY ‘LONE

BLOOD ON THE TRAIL

BODY SOLD

 

EYE ON THE MOON

OUR BOTTLES BEEN SHATTERED IN THEIR WOMB

WE GET UP TO GO

BUT THEY

BUY

AND SELL

OUR BONES TO OUR BODIES

 

ENGINE WITH A LEADEN LOAD

DEAD FRIENDS THEY SING ON

 

THEY DON’T CARE NONE

FOR A POWDERED LIGHT

LIT LIKE MAGNETS

LOVERS GETTING TIGHT

 

 

 

THEY’VE GONE A LONG WAY NOW

THE’RE STILL BE GONE

 

BLISTERED ARE HANDS WHO KNOW

BLACKENED AND COLD

 

OUR TOWN IS WRONG AND BRIGHT AND SAD

BUT THEYLL STILL BE GONE

 

OUR  TOWN’S WRONG BRIGHT DULL NIGHT LIGHT

BUT THEYRE STILL BE GONE

 

WIDE AWAKE

I SWEAR

I’M WIDE AWAKE

 

——

 

PLASTERED AT HOLY DAWN

WE’RE GOING HOME

 

DRAGGED RIGHT CROSS HOLLOW GROUND

BACK TO THE ROAD

 

TOO LATE WE LAY, AWAKE,

ON A TURNING KNIFE

 

DONT BEND AWAY IN SHAME

OF THE BURNING LIGHT

 

THE BASTARDS OF ROAD

MAKE WAY

RED FLOWERS DO GROW

 

 

…..

 

THE DUST

IT FELL AWAY

BARING

THE BODIES WHERE THEY SLEEPED

 

ABOVE THE ROAD

WE’RE SWALLOWED

BY THE DARK OF A BURNING LIGHT

 

THE BUS

SHE GOES

THE ROAD

I PANIC

IN PIECES

AS IT SLOWS

 

LOVE UP HIGH

WE’RE SWALLOWED

BY THE DARK OF A BURNING LIGHT

 

A LOADED SHOTGUN

OF BITTERED SPITE

A SILENCE IN THE TREES

A CUTTUP CONSCIENCE

THE TWISTED SPEACH

OF TERROR, CASUALLY

 

SO CMON.

 

ITS BORN IN A PUDDLE OF PRETTY PETROL

IN AN EMPTY LOT

A LOW HUM AS THE SUN DIED DOWN

AND THE RADIO’D BEEN SHOT

 

ENGINE CHASIN AIMLESS PLANS

AND A CHILD IN THE RAIN

NO GHOSTS ESCAPE APOLOGIES

WHEN A DOZEN MOTHERFUCKERS OWN ALL THIS PLACE

 

BUT THEY ARE

ON THE WAY OUT

AS BITTER DOVES

 

ON THE WAY OUT

OF BUSTED LOVE

 

ON THE WAY OUT

WITH DIRTY BLOOD

 

AND REMAIN REMAIN REMAIN. WE REMAIN.

 

 

 

 





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