Swallow - 22 Jacks

The pavement under my feet

Is going soft

The sun is melting souls

And nobody’s got any spirit

I guess that’s the trick of today

Read it in the paper

Ink stains your hands

Messes with your intentions

No point, no point standing

Swallow

Railroad through my head is fast

And I don’t know if I got a ticket

To ride this train

And it might not be stopping here

Here, there and anywhere

Can I get of

I don’t think I can stand another stop