My Wallpaper Looks Like Paint lyrics

Forty miles from the city. Sitting in traffic isn`t fun.
Crucifix stabbed in soil, to a father from a son.
There`s ghosts on the highway. I claim.
Dancing on the medians. Slamming breaks.
I`m forty miles from the city and this is the shit that`s in my brain,
I need a whim. Something I can get caught up in.
I`ve got to get down to something. If I could sacrifice a little bit,
I will. Some of us are drinking coffee,
But how the hell could you read a paper. Probably headlines of fuel,
While the governments putting all the red tape down.
Wake up, I just woke up.
The revolution won`t be televised, `cause it`s in the morning drive.
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