business of dreams - ripe for anarchy lyrics
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it’s time to say goodnight
to those lonesome ghosts forever
close the door, it’s such a bore
this crumbling rusted never
way out there where the dimwits dare
by the corporate eatery
popped pills by the rolling hills
and i packed my bags to leave
big brown vines eat the power lines
as the dead slow down to breathe
parking lots in the land of the lost
populated by the ancient freaks
alone and desperately ripe for anarchy
i heard the call to go awol
i was dreaming of a siren’s call
that hickory wind was gone again
hopped a greyhound when i could
alone and desperately ripe for anarchy
it’s time to say goodnight to those lonesome ghosts forever
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