Uniform skin
And tires for limbs
I'm taking back time
I wasted on him
Still life portraits
Of gas station drugs
The purr of the engine
My friends in the dust
And I go back to the well too often
But this time I think I'm drawing up blood
Designing graphics for my coffin
While I'm telling y'all that I'm not giving up
And who's to say
If the future's all that great
What if all that's left to do is decorate
The walls of my cell?
If life's a cheap motel
I'm not checking out late