On this long and lonely highway, in the roadhouses and the sunsets
in the tattooed men and the ladies of the night
what are you looking for?

Down the dark alleys, in the bottles and needles and pipes
on the decks of ships where nobody speaks your language
what do you seek?

Is it magic you’re looking for? Is it a sign? Is it a place
to lay your head that feels like home?

We’re animals, aren’t we? All of us eat flesh. All of us die. All of us hunger, in our bellies and loins and souls. All of us dream grand dreams and reach for the heavens and fall short and crash and are broken, but ah, the living of it!
We are men and women. We are formed of clay and of music. We love. We hate. We sing.