All Night and Day

Headed west in a pink Mercury Capri, that used to belong to star.

The desert is fading, becoming the green of the mountain meadows.

Up in the heights it’s becoming green, wildflowers blooming for spring.

The radio plays the news, all night and day, of the war that’s finally come.

 

I don’t know what I hope to find. I might just want to move and move.

Restless nights spent driving, out running demons, but never The Devil.

The wild flowers bow their heads in cool winds, almost as if in prayer.

The radio plays the news, all night and day, of the war that’s finally come.

 

I’ll stay in the mountains, maybe head north to Canada, and thick forests.

The cold rivers where maybe baptism will finally take, make we whole, clean.

It’s just me, and I run and run, and I want love, but always run out on it.

The radio plays the news, all night and day, of the war that’s finally come.

 

One stop, outside of Denver, in a little suburban town, a garden of martyrs.

I sit at the foot of her cross, the one that saved me for a time, brought the light.

I weep, for I seem to fall and break an hate, while she is still an angel in this world.

Back in the car, I know this war is the end, no future for the children, or our kind.

 

Armageddon that we brought on ourselves, The Devil laughing, victorious again.

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