Lyrics of Acathasia

Tilt

One laydown machine burned a road, right through the prairie, stream of =
Boiling ash painted up with perfect lines, discount labor packing each =
Lane, bargain basement homes sewn to the road, slipshod directions do =
Not explain. i got these shoes for nothing and they have lasted me =
Forever, searching up and down the lost highway. i can read the grid, i =
Have memorized the key, counting every inch from c-4 to j-3, i can think =
In scale 'cause i know it ain't on my map, scraping off the typeset, dig =
Into the atlas. well they can paint it up, make it appear to go =
Somewhere, well they can paint it up, but i know where it doesn't lead.
Submitted by: mel