Frozen out of focus, the sunday crowd

Started dreaming of television turned up too loud.

Coded conversation, half baked and tired,

Left us sleeping on blacktops burning the motor mile.



And underneath the arcade, details collide

There's good shopping, but all those patrons have too much style.

And moving in slow motion the boulevard started seeping

With them half-ravers and techno bars.



It is like below the neon sign

All speeding past the line and thrashing, i'm in paradise.



Sealed in concentration, the lantern lights

Started shrinking on dead men drinking white liquor wine.

And i asked the complication, the methane gas (?)

Started leaking on bastards burning half red and black.



We can't ride on ________________ time

All speeding past the line and thrashing, i'm in paradise.



And standing at the gates of nc state fair,

Saw you smoking with all those new friends you've got to spare.

And melting back in focus the sunday crowd

Started sleeping with white trash heroes, tv's turned down.



In their eyes, below the neon sky (?)

All speeding past the line and thrashing, i'm in paradise.

We can't lie below ___________ time

All dreaming of the white trash heroes on the boulevard. it is like below the neon sky (?)

All speeding past the line and thrashing on the boulevard.

We can't lie below ___________ time

All dreaming of the white trash heroes, i'm in paradise.