All the freaks come out at night
I sent my resignation to the
Broom-handle messiah.
I've got no time for pamphlets
And post cards.
Cruise control
I ain't no coast guard.
There's a chrysalis in my pocket,
And the worm's about to hatch.
The dogs are at the door,
And the key is in the latch.
This could go any way.
Right now I just don't know.
It's not up for me to say
Which way it'll go.
Fuzzy dice and
Neon headlights
I sold my soul,
So now my shoes don't fit right.
I'd get it back, but I've got no
Motivation. I'm on the road to
Desolation.
It's that ninety-ninth
"Tomorrow I'll do it."
I'd give you my word,
But you'd see right through it.
I've got no money,
Got no soul,
And I've got no hope.
Strung out as can be,
Hanging out at the
End of my rope.