Well, something imperfect the darkest white lie
And honesty’s not a preferred reply
Tip-toe’ing you-know applies the same weight
We’re grinning before
Our novocaine
I’m packing my bag for another red-eye
Rewriting my story with auto-reply
The voice in my head just spitting out pain
Thought I was in my bed, but I’m still on the train
If life is a road
The meaning is gold
Like the rivers that run
It’s here and it’s gone
We travel alone
And call it our home
Destination unknown
Disconnect on our own
A bridge over a broken river runs dry
The sleeping dogs woken
A dead-end road sign
And nothing is so old to hide from today
What else fills the gap?
Left from words you don’t say
Nobody cares what you never had said
No rest for the wicked or Rest when your dead?
Born blessed with a ticket
A mirror in your head
You can’t erase, erase engraved lead
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
Sign in to post the first listener note. Reporting stays open to everyone.