My Wallpaper Looks Like Paint - None More Black

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