Behold The Motherlode

The mysteries of bliss are closed to my eyes, shadows
Under my skin too deep to divine, dust to dust I do
What I must, I was born for better but you know
I feel lost. Eight months four homes bad in my bones
See me on the subway train riding through the zones
Be a runaway but there’s no place better
Then where you’ve been
Behold the motherlode — and this is my road
Behold the motherlode — and this is my road
I’m looking from a building that the bombs missed
Call this a home I call it an edifice — it’s time to
Throw a stone through a stained glass window
Time to steal a tip from the next door table
Love thy neighbour steal their cortina — do as I do when
Times get leaner. Tearing out a stereo everytime
The sun sets, wearing out the clothes you stole dancing
To the tape deck; live it like the last days, park it
In the fast lane — every night in your skull drums
Like a freight train — open up the seasons, carve
Yourself an Eden, live it how you like — never give a reason
Behold the motherlode — and this is my road
Behold the motherlode — and this is my road
May you not remember may you never need regret
May every sunrise find you in another’s bed
May every passing day let you get your own way
May you score what you came for — never miss an encore
Get on the guest list — get through the front door
May your enemies be fewer
May your substances be pure
Behold the motherlode — and this is my road
Behold the motherlode — and this is my road
All I want is the usual miracle
A touch of the physical
A shot of the spiritual