
Your self control might be a muscle spasm New direction isn’t everlasting though I grope for straws, you’ve got to plan this week Then the crutch dissolves, well she’s just too sweet Ration of blacktop on the slope of nowhere Came out to greet the unresponsive stare Turn green with envy over something you missed You didn’t know what, when you fell down in it Walk on top, you run beneath Blacktop spreads, blacktop speeds Walk on top, you run beneath Blacktop spreads, blacktop speeds Walk on top, you run beneath Blacktop spreads, blacktop, blacktop speeds
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