Driving on the faded mid-western dotted line
with nothing but the fighting wind to slowly count the time
racing with the fences as they guard their farms
here I come, there I go, help me lay down my arms
Just as I am, you rush in without a warning
I didn't think that you would want to come to this place
and make it feel like a sunday morning.
I have been a blacksmith with the tools in my hands
with plastered eyes I build the lie and cannot understand
feeding on the ashes of a deluded heart
but in the place of dust and death I see you have come this far
And just as I am...
You were the first, and you'll be the last
and like a cloud on the Chicago skyline
these things are past
Maybe it's the way your love swells beneath my skin
or maybe it's because my senses are full again
maybe it's because I can't quite mark the source
or maybe I'm afraid to let it run it's course...