*(Verse 1 - Slow, rolling guitar like tires on gravel)*
Dusty wheels hum a dead man’s tune,
Yellow lines stretch like a broken noose.
Windows down, let the desert scream,
First time I’ve breathed since I was seventeen.
(Pre-Chorus - Bass rumbles like a storm)
Daddy’s belt sang a lullaby,
Mama’s tears were cheap red wine.
Uncle Harry’s shadow on my door—
"Good girls don’t scream…" (but I do now)
(Chorus - Explosive, unhinged)
"I’M THE GHOST, I’M THE SMOKE,
MOTEL BIBLE WITH THE PAGES TORN!
RUNNING FAST, RUNNING COLD,
TELL THE DEVIL HE CAN HAVE MY SOUL!"
*(Verse 2 - Haunting, detuned guitar slides)*
New Mexico’s got a purple sky,
Radio preaches ’bout the end of time.
I count the scars like mile markers glow—
"Three for him… one for Joe…"
(Pre-Chorus - Whispered, then screamed)
Found my freedom in a .38’s grin,
His last words were "You’ll never win—"
(gunshot echo in the drums)
(Chorus - More chaotic, feedback-drenched)
"I’M THE GHOST, I’M THE SMOKE,
MOTEL BIBLE WITH THE PAGES TORN!
RUNNING FAST, RUNNING COLD,
TELL THE DEVIL HE CAN HAVE MY SOUL!"
(Bridge - Spoken word over dissonant picking, à la Bukowski)
"…steel in my lap like a lover’s hand…
…prayed to the crows to bury the man…
…they’ll find his bones where the highways crack…
…but they’ll never drag me baaaaack…"
(Outro - Slow, dying)
Two days north where the pines turn black,
Engine coughs—"No going back."
The rearview shows a flashing light…
"Yeah officer… he’s buried right…"
