Solid, yellow lines and street signs
have become my home
the steering wheel will always heal
no matter where I roam
I don't know where I'm going,
nor I know where I've been.
I don't know where to begin.
so I take the wheel and
drive
He'll drive away
My four-wheel sanctuary
My heart's apothecary,
It saves me when I'm sick and dying,
cathartic and indemnifying
Bench seats and initials carved
on the inside, and its scars,
its broken parts and bruises
Don't heal like mine do
Diner food spanning thirty years
littered on the floor
Blood and tears and cum and beers
spilled throughout the war
I don't know where I'd run
If I left again
I don't know where I should begin
So he'll take the wheel and he'll drive
He'll drive away
Chorus
In Lawrence, at the Roadhouse, Bobby's and the Bat Cave
They're fixed locations and our time with them will fade
In all the dirty cheap motel rooms that I've lived in
Nothing knocks me out better than soft rock and leather seats
From Wichita to Arkansas
From sea to shining sea,
It'll always be my bro and me
you know just where we'll be
The driver's (the shot gun) seat
with windows down,
en route to an inn
I don't know where I should begin
So we'll take the wheel and he'll drive
We'll drive away
We'll drive away
A live record from the legendary Diamanda Galás finds the artist exploring the outer fringes of pop with only her voice and a piano. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2024