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The Highway Blues
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Volume Three Found the right pill, the right combination
the cocktail to end all madness, and the peek is within reach.
All the sinners rejoice, it becomes the junkies choice.
Facing the devil in the darkness of our own hearts,
no choice but to see the evil in our own hearts
and we sing and dance, as we slowly fall from grace.
In the land of the lonely, those popular become kings.
Exiled into the minds of those insane, are those enslaved.
We are the fallen, the angels who lost their wings
gone mad with emotion, we trip to the flow of motion.
Found the right path, the right direction
the wicked kamikaze dive, for the finish line.
Passing strangers on this strange highway,
lulled into a false sense of being, if seeing could even be believing.
Constantly at war, constantly in struggle.
Even peace, could not bring comfort to your heart.
The world is at odds, seeing only shades of the full spectrum of the rainbow.
As you look everywhere but within to find yourself.
Constantly finding your path blocked, by your own creation.
We are ghosts living within an elaborate illusion.
Never obtaining anything of real substance,
hoarding priceless trash, that can give us a real physical rash
if picked, it bleeds, just as strong as our emotional needs
and here I go passing strangers once again on this highway.
Soul after soul passes by my window, trapped on this endless road
