vita fugit sicut umbra

 

RENT STRIKE - THE ROAD GIVETH

I could walk, I could walk for days

Across bridges and old highways.

Bare feet, achey bones, skin burnt by the sun.

No one around me but a few close friends.

No one to tell me how the world is gonna end.

Unconcerned with the wars and the bombs, we would run.

We’d find a place in history.

Carving our names in that old oak tree.

Whiskey ‘round the fire, now I lay me down to sleep, and

In the morning, I would feel so good.

Waking up in the middle of the woods.

Legs stretched, palms up, and greeting the dawn

With this song, it goes ~

Oh, I’ll always be angry. I’ll never be sober.

I’ll never grow old.

And I, I miss my home, sometimes.

But mostly, I don’t. Mostly, I don’t.

I could ride, I could ride this train

Across mountains, and sprawling plains.

Blowing smoke and spitting in the wind.

And I’d never care what lies ahead.

These things are easier done than said.

All it takes is a step.

Oh, I’ll always be angry. I’ll never be sober.

I’ll never grow old.

And I, I miss my home, sometimes.

But mostly, I don’t. Mostly, I don’t.

So this is it, at long, long last.

Beholden to nothing, but the shadow of the past.

Well, I’d just let the time pass.

Because - living good, living right

Is so much more complex than the black and the white,

And I’m not gonna waste my time.

I’m not gonna waste my life.

I’m gonna keep going. My liver’s just fine, thanks.

This will never get old.

And I, I miss my home, sometimes.

But mostly, I don’t. Mostly, I don’t ~ No,

I’ll always be angry. I’ll never be sober.

I’ll never grow old.

And I, I miss my home, except when I don’t.

And mostly, I don’t.