I should really go back to bed, no I really should.
But there is a certain rhythm that you can only get
When you are half asleep, and it's still dark out, and you have the need to write.
There's a car on the road, I can hear it.
It's that one kid who always guns it as he turns right and heads down Green.
And you know I sort of kind of wish I was still coming home at six in the morning
And still had the balls to gun it at as I turned right on Green.
Yeah, he turned right, it's him alright.
And god, that sound is annoying.
And god that sound is exhilarating.
And he probably thinks he is some small town version of Bruce Springsteen.
And you know he probably is, with his Rosalita by his side.
And a feeling deep inside that he doesn't understand.
He just doesn't know.
He just doesn't see.
He'd better get it while he can.
Cause he's just a few steps away from being me
Sitting here at seven in the morning
Searching for the rhythm, instead of living it.
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