Lake Drive

(Verse 1)
It’s a scrambling kind of life

It could finish any time

Of hard to locate station, a flickering picture kind

Of over supply of days, then always exhausted time

Of ambient desperation, a keening wave of sine

And really baby really, that would probably be fine

Never sure if what I thought, was a clambering up, a climb

Wasn’t a pivot down, wasn’t

A slow decline

When you’re always scrambling you’re always digging

Down into the hungry lime

The deep moronic base

The ruthless icing on the cake

The puling soggy centre

Makes for sеntimental paste

Profane gеography does the range of dividing make -

I couldn’t mander the ferry

(Chorus)
I drove my car into the lake

Nothing made sense anymore…(not that it ever did)

Nothing makes sense anymore…(not that it ever will)

(Verse 2)
A little early in the piece

To be from my senses released

A little green for a critical break

Still, I drove my car into the lake

When you’re not dying you’re not dying, you’re not really living not really

The thing you reach out to touch it isn’t much, it’s touchy feely

It’s a scrambling kind of life, a spanning of barely par

A scrambling life that isn’t? Well they rarely are

Heaven has always been on earth, it’s for the bankers and killers

Magnum daddies and their pretties, mercenary gorillas

It isn’t for me anymore…(not that it ever was)

It’s all just a little bit fake, so I drive my car into the lake…