It's wishful thinking
Western life
The rigid machinery of social constructs

So where do I place my limbs
So that my heart and head swim?

East coast shoulders
Chip and wear
From carrying the blues, on and on.

That music swells us up
And pulls asunder.

It's the bold and ancient
Sound of thunder
That reminds me of what I should be

So how do I stake my happy fate
In the loudness of the modern state?

East coast blues
the Lansdale average
I guess they're right, and that's just life.

So find a warm spot,
Hold the night.