Im on a bus with a neon sign That says double happiness Its been a lonely July Im running out of breath Its midnight in New England And Ive got the only light On my way back to Baltimore Route 95 Im thinking of a movie Starring only silhouettes The more you think about it The less you understand The antagonistic hero And his artificial grin Ride their bicycles to war As the sun begins to set Solitudes a root And existence is the tree You cannot eat the fruit Without pushing past the leaves The harder that it hurts The louder you can sing A life without some pain Doesnt mean a thing A gypsy from Los Angeles Drew visions from my hand She said I dont know where Im going But Im sure about the end She pulled out a faded picture Of an orchard and the sea Said I used to live there Before the war took him from me I thought if broken hearts could kill Wed all be dying lonely deaths Wed be actors in that movie And wed all be silhouettes But the hand that goes around the clock It comes back again So stand up and cast your shadows On the cold pavement Solitudes a root And existence is the tree You cannot eat the fruit Without pushing past the leaves The harder that it hurts The louder you can sing A life without some pain Doesnt mean a thing
wed, without, silhouette, solitude, louder