This place is empty except for the stationary
bottles of whiskey and barstools still standing
concussion headache from blissful evening
of confusion muttered speech from too much drinking
the cars are idling
near out of gas and lifeless
like the people standing persuaded by the temptress
cut up and cunning
the brute keeps going nobody caring for the
chaos he's arousing
always a step to go a step to go a step to go too far
seems like the only steps taken are in the wrong direction
but we keep stepping on each other
breaking each rung on the ladder
always a step to go a step to go a step to go much further
persistent rhythms clutter dispersal then come together
to discuss the times they hung up on the
clothes line in bad weather
the television whines and tells us different sides
of things that we don't care about, taking up our time
the road ends short with malice
no road maps to direct us
so we come up one step short of satisfaction
always a step to go, a step to go...