I'm heading south on the 405
Trying to outrun the police
They tell me I'm wanted dead or alive
The charge of disturbing the peace
And I see the waves to the right
Crashing down on San Onofre beach
Such a heavenly sight
But always just out of reach
Like a whisper of the Gods
Or a forgotten lullaby
And in the quiet of my bedroom walls
I hear my room mates making love
I think about old lovers, whether to call
Or stare out the window at a flock of passing doves
I listen as the rain begins to trickle down
Peaceful against the quiet night
The sewer rats and hopes won't drown
Though they oft are out of sight
If I tied myself to the lightning rod
Would I remember that lullaby?
And Justin Sullivan is on the radio
A quiet forlorn love song
Forever is a long long way to go
And every turn I make is wrong
No matter where the music goes
No matter where the road will take me
What I reap is what I've sowed
And the road still whispers to me
Another whisper from the Gods
They whisper to me like a lullaby
Maybe I'll take another knife to my skin tonight
Maybe I'll bleed on my bedroom walls
Paint my life story where it's always out of sight
The color of red so painful though it still calls
And maybe it'll wash away
Maybe it'll fade to grey
And though one day I know I'll die
Tonight I'll listen to that lullaby
And if the police don't catch me
I'll drive on into the night
I'll drive on back to Hollywood to see
If I can find a walker in the night
The only love I can afford is the one I'll do without
Blacker than my twisted heart I'll walk about
Downtown Los Angeles, city of fallen angels
City of pain, masks, spin cycle angles
And daily buy into the lies
Ignoring the whispers of that lullaby
Telling me to come back to the land
Travel south, maybe there's a woman there
Maybe travel north, maybe west and drown in the surf
Maybe I'll scream from the highest of mountains
Maybe I'll cut my throat and hang up high
Or write another song, about a boy and a girl
Tommy and Gina, living on a prayer
Praying to a God who just doesn't care
Kneeling before a Savior on a Stick
Where you buy salvation, but no salve for old wounds
The Northern wastes call to me sometimes
Wish I could journey there, the artic circle
Where the sun never sets, and my breath is white
Maybe I could start to heal there
And maybe the wind will fade, and in the silence
Deep in the silence
I will hear that whisper again
And make it out clearly
The words to an unsung lullaby
