My Wallpaper Looks Like Paint

Forty miles from the city
Sitting in traffic isn't fun
A crucifix stabbed in soil
To a father from a son

There's ghosts on the highway, I claim
Dancing on the medians, slamming brakes
I'm forty miles from the city
This is the shit that's in my brain

I need a whim, something I can get caught up in
I've got to get down to something
If I could sacrifice a little bit
I will

Some of us are drinking coffee
But how the hell could you read a paper?
Probably headlines of fuel
While the government's putting all the red tape down

Wake up, I just woke up
Wake up, I just woke up
The revolution won't be televised
'Cause it's in the morning drive

I need a whim, something I can get caught up in
I've got to get down to something
If I could sacrifice a little bit
I will

I need a whim, something I can get caught up in
I've got to get down to something
If I could sacrifice a little bit
You bet I will