moss grows fat on a rolling stone
Where you going for tomorrow? Where you goin' with the mask I found?
Maybe life is like a ride on a freeway. Dodging bullets while you're trying to find your way.
Confusion is to commotion, what love is to our devotion.
The billions shift from side to side, and the wars go on with brainwashed pride
The further on the edge, the hotter the intensity.
As long as there's some money, who wants that honey?
We're far from the shallow now
I've got a tongue like a razor, a sweet switchblade knife
I will drive past your house, and if the lights are all down. I'll see who's around.