Well I’ll take you riding
But the rouse sits upon our cheeks
These clouds won’t stay forever
And these leaves well they won’t see
I’ll take you riding in my Ford my model-T
These clowns will be mistaken
The souls we save are creased
Their bodies roll off lines
Into the arms of mass appeal
I’ll hold you in my arms now as we stroll down the boulevard
And how we love the evening in gaslight flooded streets
We pour into the dance halls
Where the floors jump through our feet
As night gives way to day now
We wake beneath our tree
Chased back into hiding
Where no one ever sees
I’ll take you riding in my Ford my model-T

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