Ask The Dust

She don't lift her head for nothing

She don't lift her head for no one

30 years have glazed her eyes

Her tongue is dry from asking why

Why all my ideas

Peel and turn to rust

Why I feel I must

I guess I'll ask the dust

She's an American highway flower

Walking, blossoming into nowhere

Digesting tailpipes and babies screams

To fill the hole that used to house her dreams

Why all my ideas

Peel and turn to rust

Why I feel I must

I guess I'll ask the dust

I wonder what I'm doing here

She asks the moon but he don't care

He's busy shining on the lucky

In the dark she swims toward nothing

Why all my ideas

Peel and turn to rust

Why I feel I must

I guess I'll ask the dust