maybe one day when the sun is blue
I will reach out to touch you
walk the streets
with nothing in my head
except a big backbeat
and some grand plans
follow the glowing spoon
in the night parade
hear the howling moon
it’s getting late
the kind of happiness
only an artist can know
proudly suffering through
the sacrifices we’ve made
which bring lonely rewards within
in underground ceremonies
for men that dream
in the shadows with slow songs
playing on the jukebox
friends and failures long gone
lonesome fools
finally you’ve reached the mountain top
of rocknroll bottom