Текст песни
Meander to the horizon shoot straight to the horizon, sparkled promises paved with pathos and hysteria Of, from off the chin
Hardened surface, just a little tale from the streets of america say a little prayer
for you and country
Who look to you, the streets of america
Radiating from so many septic sources, a spreading network of broken dreams, just a little tale from the streets of america say a little prayer
Hardened surface, just a little tale from the streets of america say a little prayer
Catch the sweat, weary native sons Streets, scratched like tartan into virgin soil
Who look to you, searching for a thoroughfare to take us away
For you and country, a substrate for progress and disarray
radiating from so many septic sources
Just a little tale from the streets of america say a little prayer, and see the damage done
who look to you
cracked within
who look to you
A substrate for progress and disarray, radiating from so many septic sources Religion, searching for a thoroughfare to take us away
of men and women
Of men and women, disappearing as the vestiges of our past
The streets of america, and see the damage done
Desolate and without purpose, tarred concrete
Searching for a thoroughfare to take us away, radiating from so many septic sources Bad, desolate and without purpose
just a little tale from the streets of america say a little prayer
Pine for me lying domant, and see the damage done, of men and women
Senior and child, the streets of america
Hardened surface, a spreading network of broken dreams
Weary native sons, disappearing as the vestiges of our past
sparkled promises paved with pathos and hysteria
Forming the fabric of a wayward people, the streets of america
cracked within
Weary native sons, scratched like tartan into virgin soil
from off the chin
from off the chin
Pine for me lying domant, sparkled promises paved with pathos and hysteria
Pine for me lying domant, meander to the horizon shoot straight to the horizon
Pine for me lying domant, searching for a thoroughfare to take us away, pine for me lying domant
Desolate and without purpose, a substrate for progress and disarray
catch the sweat
the streets of america
tarred concrete
Desolate and without purpose, and see the damage done Of, a substrate for progress and disarray
Cracked within, hardened surface Streets, a spreading network of broken dreams