Lyrics by Indi Riverflow

Power flows from the barrel of an engine’s heat
As I surf quanta in the driver’s seat
Press stubbornly on or beat a humble retreat
Pick a path, compass queued south
Set on a physical and mystical mission
To fill my soul and fill my mouth
So long as I retain a willing transmission

Charged with a duty to find a way
To let my blind mind have its strange say
Whatever it takes
To make it through the day
Without breaking down
Running out or
Becoming some trooper’s prey

{Chorus}
Cylinder sparks drive the heart
Inheriting fire from the galaxy’s start
Never know how long you’ll last
When the meter’s on the fritz
You don’t know if you’re running on empty
Or just this side of it

There are potholes and pitfalls
Sharp turns and and fallen trees
There are downpours and hail balls
The hypnotic lull of too much ease

Times when the gears are jammed
Smoothly jarred by emergency
Worst of all the road is crammed
With drivers just like me

{Chorus}

Got to know which pedal to pump
When to swerve and when to dump
What lane you want to occupy
When you barely know why
Or were to begin
Trust that you must
Keep ticking off miles
But the real travel goes on within

Objects in the mirror
Are always closer than they appear
The milieu fading fast from view
Will always still
Remain a part of you

{Bridge}
Hopscotching hitchhiking mermaids
Venturing to Vegas apparently unafraid
Leaping Hasidic nuns in acrobatic acts
Of bending reality to match the facts
Pack mules humping heroic attics home
Laboring under the weight of Alexandria’s lost tomes
Yoga impostors extending their reach
Seven Thunders raining complaints on a desert beach
Gypsy fortune-tellers dropping punch lines too late
Young laterally mobile unprofessionals querying fate
Clairvoyant clowns juggling suits and ties
Throngs gasping while executives fly by
Morphing morphemes birthing muddled meaning
Windows washed without any clear cleaning
Crates of wasted youth and dysfunctional dreams
Devoted to sports teams and despotic regimes
Pirates piloting ships without sails
Seconds split between rails and and nails
Knock-knock archivists on the banana peel trail
Holy Fools hunting profane Grails