Cold wind coming like a march on the block
Last one left, only car in the lot
Call her Darla, the vessel for the Argonaut flock
Where it’s safe to believe that we are what we’re not
We are what we’re not
We aren’t what we got

Smile like a hammerhead, drive like I’m banished
Eyes that’ll scan a set of signs when they manifest
Peace to the faint pink, last of the clear blue
Ears glued to the static thinking I could hear you
Tonight, home is not a place we can steer to
Thank God escape pods ain’t got rear views
Copy, pedal to the fully fueled moxie
Amp the inner monologue, I’m heading out of body

Blues in my blood, juice in my cup
Puruse through the sludge for the jewels in the mud
Running on fumes, fumes and the rush
Homey, I just do what I does
Food in the gut, truce in the touch
Croon with the doves while I’m cooped in the cut
Setting up the moves, I’m refusing to rust
Baby, I just do what I does (yeah I do what I must)

Throw some snaps on the petro
Gas the getaway before the masses assemble
This is the taste of freedom when your trapped in a schedule
Rolling in the whip while I’m blasting my demos
Yeah, I bump my own shit, I bump my friends too
Reminders of the Hades and Arcadias we’ve been through
G and I were 20 in the whip by the lakeside
Penning fossils to music by cavelight
10 years later, the ash trays clean
Same lack of direction, same campaign theme
The new car’s Darla, the last one was Igna
The dirty HQ where I pondered the enigmas
But what I wouldn’t give for a flux capacitor
To go back to when I had an extra passenger

Blues in my blood, juice in my cup
Peruse through the sludge for the jewels in the mud
Running on fumes, fumes and the rush
Homey, I just do what I does
Food in the gut, truce in the touch
Croon with the doves while I’m cooped in the cut
Setting up the moves, I’m refusing to rust
Baby, I just do what I does (yeah I do what I must)