i feel like I'm back on track,
or back on the road
depending on whether i want to go "tires" or "soles"
i go with the prior, I'm tired of walking on my own two feet
carry me back to my bedroom floor
spent far to much time alone
like spare change drawn from empty pockets
i just couldn't afford to feel that way any longer
she's not like the others
she doesn't flip coins to the poor just to watch them fall
she means every word that water's the rose that grows inside of me
i was burnt out to the butt of my cigarette
she lit me back to life again
she's the sweetest cancer caught in my throat
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