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• Artiste: Atta Boy
• Titre: Roadblock (Six Weeks)
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One more detour now, one roadblock then the road looks clear. So, let's take the train, to the coast 'fore the rain gets here. Hurricanes can't be seen, at all where the airplanes fly. So just box old prayers, unheard words when they know the lie. Up late, down low, no sleep, nowhere to go. Cold spell, no snow, two feet, nothing to show. Six weeks, now past, and stand still, don't go too fast. Sweet dreams, at last, cheap thrills, because I asked. I can see the lights of the ship. Can you see it, too? Don't you dare, too cross, What they say's not true. Up late, down low, no sleep, nowhere to go. Cold spell, no snow, two feet, nothing to show. Six weeks, now past, and stand still, don't go too fast. Sweet dreams, at last, cheap thrills, because I asked. It's a shame you left, way back when all the roads were clear. So, I'll take the train, to the coast, but you won't be here.