Driving down an open highway

Wondering Michael rows

His boat ashore and he does it my way

Then would he ever know

What's underneath the broken starlight

Then totaled on the access raod?

Could he escape by trying to fly away?

And would he know?

Now he's laying bricks on boulders

Sweat beads his crown of thorns

Making a home for junkie vultures

So sure the sun is bored

His dragonflies are made of tissue

They'll burn up at the slightest storm

The flying suit hangs in the closet

Was it ever worn?

I want to know if he can sleep

How clean a castle does he keep?

Not knowing

Not knowing

Not knowing

Not knowing

Not knowing

Not knowing

Driving down an open highway

Wondering if Michael knows