The She

Ripped off You smoked the Bible Rolled it up Your last breath Hot on my back You get started Try to get somewhere You move so slow You're not even here Dear traveller It's my death My rhythm My arithmetic I got used to Nobody ridin in the back Sorrow blowin through the veins I'm over Houston You're over the night we met Dear traveller The she Scared electricity Where no human Carries a map You say you gotta burn to shine But every prism unwinds A road to ruin And this tickets mine Dear traveller --- The She - The Breeders