No one knows the way. It's all a secret. Hunt for knowledge. On your journey home. Gotta fight for freedom, independent power. Living for now, trying somehow.
Black oil on water, dark soul in pain. My eyes cry softly in the pouring rain. Rising from the ashes where the fire took it's toll. And the wheel keeps turning as the wind is blowing cold.
I You said you needed me. I was looking at myself. I was blind, I could not see. A boy tries hard to be a man. His mother takes him by his hand. If he stops to think he starts to cry.
A befitting doom for a generation. A drug ridden culture of mass sedation. Failing to realize its own demise. Falling generation, caught by surprise. Identity crisis.
On my way over to your place -- somewhere I got lost along the way. . Blinded by all of these neon lights. Those southern belles and Savannah nights. .