Jesus Is My Ride Home

Sin first through the madness, Glass and Ash. Rooftop

perched staggering captains over the backyard captive.

and it's not what's so attractive is in the madness

and sin. it's in waiting for the kids to ignite so we

can see what happens watch the place divide into

private bathrooms, arising wide -eyed scissored

straws, looking surprised. we can watch the commerce

rise across the cobblestone, selling everything from

getting stoned to being less alone. and if you want to

be left alone endanger gutters on your own. what's the

use of those solitary's rooftop blues when there's

smoke to stain your fingers? chasing rafters, raining

sulfur and English on every pretty face in the room.

oh the gravity of the spinning ground slows the

growing legend in this house surrounds the night,

closing in like a crowd in gossip, traffic and sound

oh the soul of this dying town, it's come alive when

you come around in every muscle twitch that shakes the

dust right off your skin. every backseats niche. the

younger kid that run to tell their friends all the

things our private roof can bring. much of madness,

much of sin.