I'm driving home, at night alone,
The smell of burnt brakes out on the interstate.
The windows are open, and the music is loud,
And cars are just stop-and-go all around.
Gridlock left over from the evening rush,
From battle zones where your efforts are never enough.
Each of these guys have got their own place to be,
Their own set of vices, that don't include me
And when I get home,
and take a good look at what I hurled myself at today.
I got a chance to think, and that's good.
I got a lot of worries, that's understood.
I've got no money, and I've got no lies.
I've got a big question whose answer's a big surprise.
I've got one more week, then I've gotta know,
'Cuz then I'm spinning tires stagnant with no answers to show.
I wake up for another one of 365 days,
And it smells like a bleached white hotel towel on my face.
And the steam rises me forward by day,
To go out and make another mistake.
Leading me forward in recurring pain.
Only so I can now go out and gain.
Another white canvas, and all I've got is a brush,
And now a puddle of mud; and now the morning rush.
And when I get home,
and take a good look at what I hurled myself at today.
I got a chance to think, and that's good.
I got piece of mind like I wish you would.
I got joy in my heart and a calm inside,
Because my old self has since passed gone and died.
I've got one more week if you want to hang out,
Because I know this guy I want to tell you about.
Songs of timeless beauty and power in the mold of Vashti Bunyan and Nick Drake from enigmatic Los Angeles artist Shannon Lay. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 4, 2017