Guns fire for the rat race

I stumble on my suitcase

The crowd is frozen now

And I am slipping on their ice

Drive backwards down the highway

Trees bending through the light rays

I see it now, OK

I won't be trampled by my thoughts

Teeth twisting in the heatwave

Daydreaming of a clean wave

I see it go away

My thoughts are sleeping in the dust

Until another day

I'll let them curl up in the rust