Big yellow moon guiding Helen the way through
Low flew the raven, I wonder what he knew?
I got no time to stop for gas this ain’t my neighborhood
The pigeons seen I’ve been away, they know I’m doing good
Straddling the jagged line that divides both him and you
Never mind my heart at home, she doesn’t have a clue
Ignoring every red light, straight blowing through the smoke
The house has made a call but I’m going in for broke
I drive across the valley in my 92

Here comes the sun busting in from out the night
No explanations for what comes into the light
Busy is the boulevard, with one hundred thousand eyes
Curtains like to peak when they know they smell a lie
Selling tales of mile long whales around the morning brew
Heat comes up I can’t escape, I’m going to do what I’m going to do
Looking through my rear view and though it’s looking clear
Doom was coming it wasn’t far, in fact it was almost here
I drive across the valley, in my 92

Cold was the night, the stars were looking bright
Regret was on my heels, I know I ain’t doing right
Listen to that engine, just listen to her purr
Anything to drown out that memory of her
When I reach my Helen, cloaked in her beret
I’ll put away my feelings, my guilt and of course my regret
Am I lying to myself, hard to see inside the heat
But I know that my love at home, is the woman made for me
I drive across the valley in my 92

Achilles tells me over the phone, when he catches me, he’ll break all my bones. I don’t ask him why because I already know. I’m just packing all mine, cause it’s time to go

Ride and I ride, my heads in the sky
Counting the days, till that final parade
A plea for forgiveness has fallen in vain
For the rage of the man has drove him insane

The locals and merchants they already say
There is the man whom Achilles has blamed
A fire is coming and it hollers my name
The paths may diverge but they all end the same

My engine is nervous, my chromes in a knot
The noose feels it’s tightened and the moons feeling hot.
Achilles stands poised with the men he has brought
Thunder strikes twice and someone gets shot
The eyes of her highness stare back in a shock
She knows what she did but she would rather not
Mums go the lips that promised an out
But I’m blaming myself for doubting my doubts

The Cosmic blue from a glowing moon breaks the iron skies inside her bloom
Cold was the jazz of that winter’s night draped within her festive Christmas lights.

Between receipts and wrinkled bank notes
I fumbled for the lighter inside my coat,
Waiting for the beat between each exhale
Asking.
Am I alive?
Or had the cigarette gone stale?

Seeking shelter beneath the dingbat car lots time retreats to its usual spot
Ashes scattered across the seconds I’m in, Waiting for escape but I never seem to find him.

And then

Transactions pass like whispers in the snow,
before the long walk home and before the morning crow
All my dreams in rewind play under my breath
Am I alive? Or am I dead