Open Road

This is no Vietnam
A battleground mechanical of sexuality
This is a haunted house
Ghosts of our dead fathers walk the halls here eternally
When all your bankrupt dreams die somewhere in space
Tell me that you’re satisfied
You blink whenever you lie
When all your middle class dreams blow up in your face
Losing trying to be right
That’s the story of your life
The story of your life
This isn’t Chinatown
You can’t pretend not to understand half of what you see
This is a shopping mall
You take your fetish and pass it off as cheap commodity
When all your bankrupt dreams die somewhere in space
Tell me that you’re satisfied
You blink whenever you lie
When all your middle class dreams blow up in your face
Losing trying to be right
That’s the story of your life
The story of your life
My open road
My open road
Driving through L.A. with no special place to go
My open road
My open road
Everyone wants to move
They want to move out to the coast