out there under the falling stars
you can see the headlights coming for miles
grass so tall it casts a shadow
there's dung on the wind
it's the good kind
in the same clothes you've worn for seven days
in the stinking pockets scavenged outdoor ashtrays
everybody eats garbage
not everybody pays for it
you might ask yourself what the hell am i doing here
or try to piece together a narrative
it's fucked up turn after turn
a story you wouldn't even tell yourself
anhydrous tanks and twenty-four hour tool stores
it's three banks two cops and a water tower
ultralight airplanes but no one's ever really seen one
if you want to get a life you gotta get the balls to dream one
anhydrous tanks and twenty-four hour tools stores
there's a sweet fat chick who works the burrito window
ultralight airplanes some day you're gonna fly
anhydrous tanks
out there under the falling stars
you can see the headlights coming for miles