Broken down relations beaten up guitars. Making one last appearance in a heap of old cars. Brambles and weeds flourishing amongst. Lines of empty bottles and rambling drunks. Junkyard blues sound familiar. I'm never alone. Always remind me of home. One of a dozen covered with stains. Blistered and stinking was all that remained. Cannibalised machines mysterious bones. Unwanted contents of anonymous homes. Those junkyard blues sound familiar. Take me back. Always remind me of home. Mangy old dog scratching in the dust. Burned out Mercedes surrendering to rust. All this stuff was good for something. But here it is now good for nothing. Junkyard blues sound familiar. I'm never alone. Always remind me of home