Last night I heard you were going. Going for to stay. Bound for some other shore. Let your garbage lay. And now you're running backwards. Right into your grief. Gathering your weapons. Rippin' 'em with your teeth. But that's so unexciting. And that's the way it seems. Sooner we'll be done for. Somewhere in between. Slick and dark and hungry. It's the only game in town. Gambling in no-man's land. Rippin' faces down. The flame is shooting outward. Everywhere you are. The temperature is a-blazing. Turning tricks in cars. And that's so unexciting. That's the way it seems. Sooner we'll be done for. Somewhere in between