way in overhead

caught off guard by the gutter

everybody's spending his time

just building and making

someday someone will say, for what

nine to five in a blind alley

equals three sheets to the wind

can't remember when it started

don't know where that it ends



and there's never a dull day

when you're beaten by nonfiction

God still reads the headlinesthe front page hope is missing



working away on a rebuilt freeway

straight away from the slash and burn cities

hindsight is there

on a roadsign pointed nowhere

no one gets off here

no way to slow down

there's peace of mind somewhere

for every someone that never thinks about it



and there's never a dull day

when you're beaten by nonfiction

God still reads the headlineswe're all listening



for every drop of sweat that it takes

to speak out in wonder

never knowing how or when to duck next

just sitting here punch drunk, all the wiser