The Silence

Another knot of dreams
They keep chewing up my sleep
And spitting out my whole work-week every morning
Well this city is a sea
And its undertow grabbed me
And dragged me off into the deep without a warning

I'm longing for the silence, a field to lay my head
Where the engines and the sirens are no longer my debt
And I can finally hear my conscience, listen close to what it said
"If you don't make your bed, you don't have to lie in it."

And in the morning when I rise
Every step's a compromise
Motor fumes, and burning eyes, and drunken violence
Through the city, tall as trees
Hydrant rivers fill the street
And I can hear the birds and bees in the next apartment

I'm longing for the silence, a field to lay my head
Where the engines and the sirens are no longer my debt
And I can finally hear my conscience, listen close to what it said
"If you don't make your bed, you don't have to lie in it."

I've got my backpack and my tent
And a thumb pointing to heaven
And a couple bucks to spend if I get hungry
This land demands no rent
Though the air I breathe is lent
And the sun is so quiet as it shines on me

I'm longing for the silence, a field to lay my head
Where the engines and the sirens are no longer my debt
And I can finally hear my conscience, listen close to what it said:
"If you don't make your bed, you don't have to lie in it."
If you don't make your bed, you don't have to lie in it