Track Insight / Lyrics
You hold a map from eighty-two
The ink is faded, gray and blue
You trace the lines of old subway trains
While dry heat burns through open plains
Your boots are worn, your laces frayed
A gamble that you finally played
The coffee's black, the grill is hot
You're standing in a vacant lot
Count the steps on the veranda floor
Walking slow to the motel door
One more mile on a paper grid
Finding things that the desert hid
The diner clock is ticking fast
A greasy ghost from out the past
You flip the page to find the way
Across the salt and scorched red clay
Count the steps on the veranda floor
Walking slow to the motel door
One more mile on a paper grid
Finding things that the desert hid
The asphalt hums a heavy low
Where the cactus and the sagebrush grow
You trade your coins for a slice of pie
Underneath a bleached and white-out sky
You track the route to the city center
But this is where the strangers enter
The map is wrong, the train is gone
But you keep walking till the dawn
A short joke told to a regular guest
You put your tired spirit to the test
The grease is thick, the napkins thin
This is where the long roads all begin
Count the steps on the veranda floor
Walking slow to the motel door
One more mile on a paper grid
Finding things that the desert hid
Just one more step to the door
Just one more step on the floor
Check the map one last time
End of the line
