Renewed
When rubble turns to dust
It's a song about the highway
it's a song without a bridge
it's a song that couldn't finish
without starting on a ledge
When rubble turns to dust
and dust turns to fame
and you find yourself stumbling through
the corridors of time that still remain
Gone the way of the blacksmith
who once reigned as king
gone the way of the turtle
threatened by man's stream
Succumbed by lust
a return to the city occupied by cars
abandoned to the trust
that leads me to the comfort in these paneled bars
It's a song about the highway
It's a song without a bridge
It's a song that couldn't finish
without starting on a ledge
When rubble turns to dust
and dust turns to fame
and you find yourself stumbling through
the corridors of time that still remain
Living threads behind me
Leaving a life of tears
Living through the darkness
that's held me captive these last years
It's a song about the highway
It's a song without a bridge
It's a song that couldn't finish
without starting on a ledge
In this city of concentric circles
your love is a miracle
emblazoned like an oracle
that sings though Greek temples softly cradled
throughout the realm that our lives encircle waxing rhetorical
When rubble turns to dust
and dust turns to fame
and you find yourself stumbling through
the corridors of time that still remain
The necromancer casts a spell on our ship
as we slip away into the fog
the apache kid