Autopilot, is up and running seconds too late
this navigator has crunched too many coordinates
in this stubborn crap shoot. place is more than a numeric value
oh these words like dying breaths from ghosts and farms long since been left for dead

a fight fight fight for place position
a plight plight plight through conversation
a light light light of indignation
now slides slides slides, like a metronome, setting sun

ride these waves, she's taking on too much water
from crying eyes that long to be, more than just man-made fodder

the grey of the steel milles, brings back the haze
of travels down abandoned roads, once again reading from
the last night of the earth, what is it telling you tonight
past truths that guided us, now slow our strides
(lighten the load for those along for the ride
make it easy as it ever was)

a coarse voice and a gravel throat
time and tide will bless this boat
a vessel launched from a trestle poarch
beams of pride in place of these supports
oh these castle walls, outnumbered by cannon balls
they take their toll and they stake their claim
leaving everyone else to blame each other

when we're all so selfish - I stand a sinner
if I can stand at all
and I'd take what I've got coming a million times if only I could find a way

oh you've held on to the stillness so long, wrapping all up under the covers,
would it last through flashings of war
where nighttime doesn't exist, but there is searching
for gold and searching for souls, but does the search
exist anymore in any way, shape or form


The rust from the steel mills, weakens the wheels
that turn us to progress and further away from ourselves
mountains and spring air do us well, when we all
feel desperation, under falls splashing at our feet
the falls splash at our feet