Karma As A Tour Manager

Never been this far from the ocean before
The lack of a breeze leaves a cold unease
In its place there is a sound
Like someone trying not to make a sound

Crawling along the hot tarmac
My whole body a raw wound
You'll understand paranoia much better
If you just start following me around

Don't want to travel in slow motion anymore
Can't hear a god damned thing except that one ghost sing
Everything's a big bright blur
And the tide has surely turned

Now why did I burn the map?
There's no chance in hell I'll find my way back
But new roads will open up
New paths will have to be learned

Not much left out here
Just dirt and despair
Not much left out here
Keep searching
Keep digging

Not much left out here
Just dirt and despair
Not much left out here
Keep searching
Keep digging for air

Keep digging for air

Not much left out here
Just dirt and despair
Not much left out here
Keep searching
Keep digging

Not much left out here
Just dirt and despair
Not much left out here
Keep searching
Keep digging for air