Old Engines
by:
Snips
These littered streets match our littered skin.
To tell a story of ends and new beginnings.
Scream from the rooftops and crash to the ground
to hear the sounds of yesterday calling.
Walking on a tightrope above the oil,
The bottom beholds a black titled avenue with the sound
of the footsteps crawling and rain drops falling.
Let me paint a picture that I draw so well.
I'm moving up,
I'm falling down.
Another day, another hour.
A blink in time and I say there is no time to lose.
Waking up is a routine that I've gotten myself into.
Engraved in our mind over time, over lives I can see but now I'm a fucking gun.
A laser set to stun.
Try to have some faith in a sound you can not see.
I will, paint this pearl and check my pulse just to know that I'm alive.
How many hours do we really live?
Hours left to accomplish a story that's becoming a lifetime.
Scrub me clean and erase what's in my mind.
Rock'n roll tastes of the finest wine.
Disregard his actions, the classical wino so what does he know?
Wondering why he'll disregard his actions.
He's dialing but there's no tone.
Somewhere in his head, he's ripping signs down from poles.
He'll never fall in love or feel the warmth of a true friend's hand.
He'll never understand.
Rock'n roll tastes of the finest wine.
A million reasons why one person's absent mind can't be mine.
Simple pleasures found in things some minds don't grasp.
Things some minds don't grasp.
A simple approach to things when thick weighs out the thin.
This van and the jam we're crammed in.
Shades of black and shades of blue,
The eagle grip keeps pulling through.
A story to tell and a wound to nurse. translated to a simple verse.
The end of the night when no one talks, the everlasting drive to a dumpster in the snow.
That's where I'll always go.
When nothing's right you can't go wrong, this ain't a life just when long song.
Come on and sing with me.
