Motorbike Gypsy

I’m a motorbike gypsy with a handful of tin
Billboards are cue cards for original sin
White hot adrenaline to push me along
The ice cold blue sky is where I belong

Cut through the thorns you’ll find a heart made of rose
I’ve got skin and scars and ink to expose
The road to nowhere is as smooth as glass
But manifest ego doesn’t move that fast

Time is salt in emotional wounds
Time won’t tell when you force it to
The magic turns tragic, well that’s no surprise
Torture out the truth from our enemy’s eye

Rendition superstition on a runaway train
Fall in line to ease your pain
Will you make the effort to perfect that skill?
Your soul is a weapon without looks to kill

I’ve got to tease out my regret
I’ve got to hold on to my breath
I’ve got to cheat my very death
I won’t make love like I’m placing a bet

Greed works if you’re all alone
Greed works if you’re made of stone
If you’re a silver bullet savior with a poison pill
You won’t get a shot at my free will

The subway wall writing has been scrubbed away
The weatherman’s not predicting wind today
That rolling stone has gathered its moss
It’s a yuppie scum covered double-cross

Hypocritical hipsters gentrify the ghetto
But the urban aboriginal won’t just go
Like the white men who killed the Redskin
We’ve built back the wall that cut Berlin

Transcendental nightmares off the top of my head
Diving off the cliff won’t get her in bed
Tonight’s lust kills tomorrow’s dream
Abject desire is exactly as it seems

So listen close before you let go
Because a sweet nothing whisper has no echo
Nobody’s willing to walk that line
Everybody bumps but nobody grinds

It’s the feeling you get when you walk in rain
The hope you have when you writhe in pain
It’s all the look and luster of your first tattoo
And all the thrill of last night’s taboo

My naïve heart always falls in love
It’s gonna break when it can’t get enough
So don’t you come near me unless you can give
I’ll trade with you, we’ll have two lives to live

We’ve got to tease out our regret
We’ve got to hold on to my breath
We’ve got to cheat my very death
Don’t make love like you’re placing a bet

Motorbike gypsy with a handful of tin
Billboards are cue cards for original sin
White hot adrenaline to push us along
Ice cold blue sky is where we belong