Guns fire for the rat race
I stumble on my suitcase
The crowd is frozen now
And I am slipping on their ice

Drive backwards down the highway
Trees bending through the light rays
I see it now, OK
I won't be trampled by my thoughts

Teeth twisting in the heatwave
Daydreaming of a clean wave
I see it go away
My thoughts are sleeping in the dust
Until another day
I'll let them curl up in the rust