The Routes We Wander

Tonight the captain's dreams are bad

Searching for a dim and distant shore

Amidst the sluts, the drifters and the thieves

He doesn't dream of landing anymore



Drowning in these tumblers, stumbling through these doors

Swinging out to cold cement from sticky hardtile floors

These are the routes we wander every goddamn day

So swallow hard then wipe those dreams away



Come to life again



The smoke and the cold killed the men and the dogs

Last glimpse of sun and all winter it's gone

Chained at the ankles, cuffed at the wrists

Stuffed into mail sacks and tossed into drifts



The lunar eye is burning

Boring through me

Digging deep into my chest

Into my head, into my dreams

Into my sleep



These dreams these days don't give me no peace