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• Artiste: Mommyheads (The)
• Titre: Work
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Shooting forward through the grease clouds Up in the sky there is no network can with a man Sitting hunched on a dark machine that He is working with his starved hands above the land He pushes quarters into slots and everytime He puts one in a cigarrete falls into a black box He doesn't get to keep the coins or the cigarretes but still His comes in pains And it is pulling me back And it is pulling me back To thinking I must conquer This world with one hundred dollars And every colored color Is the color of pain And I can't track my mood and burn my pain I picked up the phone and heard a voice so far away A woman from my past old and black In southern tone she slowly asked me questions And as I answered I could hear her nod in touch with god She seemed to know me better than I knew myself Cause when she asked me How I spent my time these days And I said music and she said yes I know cause that's your calling You to play And it is calling me back And it is calling me back To knowing the feeling My work is in good keeping And life is lucid dreaming And it's ok Cause I have come here with something to say