Songcrafters.org

Clock made of Bones

blew into town
like a leaf on a zephyr
the faces all seemed skeletal
optimism gone
the bank robbed and empty
at the red light intersection
with a gawking throng

I remember all the signs
the roadside attractions for tiny minds

when we're counting the time on this clock made of bones
riding the miles of life on these hard roads
we're swallowing the line
getting lost and car sick as we move along

a production line of Model T's and all of them are black
the jobs all seemed to leave this town and they're not coming back
an oil barrel burning
with the men all stood and staring
at the orange sparks

I remember all the signs
the roadside attractions for tiny minds

when we're counting the time on this clock made of bones
riding the miles of life on these hard roads
we're swallowing the line
getting lost and car sick as we move along

some things never change
the weirdos and the strange
getting labelled in the rain
out on the edge of town

when we're counting the time on this clock made of bones
riding the miles of life on these hard roads
we're swallowing the line
getting lost and car sick as we move along