Classic Tapes

Oh we crashed in the ash
And then the cash of the titans blew out to sea
But you, you broke out the map
Lead us out of the country
Through the haunted hallway

I strayed during the ticker tape parade
You were gathering blank tapes
For the never ceasing project of the documentarian

My dear, I could drift into backyards
During nights of no moonlight
And never reappear
You know that something
Would grab a hold of me slowly
Make love to me only
And pull me deep underground

Forever is incomprehensible
But still attainable
With a little luck, a lawyer, and a fine tuned radio

The stop light changes but nothing else does
It kept me waiting just because
So delete all your dead friends from you cell phone
It keeps you inside that certain zone: home
Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha

I feel it, I feel it, I feel it, I feel it
A devil, a devil, a devil, a devil
Or an angel, an angel, an angel, an angel
Nearer and nearer and nearer and nearer