The pavement gives a knowing glance
You couldn't kick up dust if you tried
Paradise gets smaller every step of the way
But you go here
to this place
this decaying mass of people on people on people on shit.
You go here and you think you found the backbone, the foundation
but you find out that the foundation if cracked and shifted
and coerced into a rotting carcass that is slowly eating itself
So you can't win this time, so what?
won't there be other battles? other battlegrounds?
So you move on, to the next town, the next battle
New place, same story.
It's eating itself, they all are.
and the only thing that can stop it is you
you, and your friend, and his girlfriend
you stop it, slowly, slowly.
you stop it by caring and thinking and NOT doing
So maybe it's too late for this place
Maybe the well's dried up
But sometime, somewhere...
Hope is just a trigger-pull away.