Manning - The Voyager lyrics

The white lines of the motorway, straight narrow guiding signs Funnel with authority, they're the totem of our times Placards with their morals, on the avenues of escape Regulate the voyagers who blindly participate I am a victim of travel, the byways my domain I fling my door wide open and yet I return again This roadway runs my life, and it pulls me to my feet, begs, pleads and promises, but offers no release Machines in lines for hours, like links in a consumer chain Each unit is independent of the sprawling cattle lanes My stomach knots about and my anger starts to wake, To be a frozen Adam on a Godless winding snake We leave our homes and are molded by the Order of the Route Bullets in a tarmac rifle, we wait for it to shoot We cross this changing land and we motor through its space You, me and the carnival troupe firmly locked in our place These veins of industry pump their blood and the transport lumbers on A wake of noise and diesel fumes in a tuneless traffic hum These white lines so straight and narrow, they march the endless miles Against a uniform grey, with no hint, no hint of a smile I am a victim of travel, the byways my domain, I fling my door wide open and I'm pulled along again Placards screaming morals along the avenue of escape Regulate the voyagers, who blindly participate