Karma As a Tour Manager

Never been this far from the ocean before The lack of a breeze leaves a cold unease In its place there is a sound Like someone trying not to make a sound Crawling along the hot tarmac My whole body a raw wound You'll understand paranoia much better If you just start following me around Don't want to travel in slow motion anymore Can't hear a god damned thing except that one ghost sing Everything's a big bright blur And the tide has surely turned Now why did I burn the map? There's no chance in hell I'll find my way back But new roads will open up New paths will have to be learned Not much left out here Just dirt and despair Not much left out here Keep searching Keep digging Not much left out here Just dirt and despair Not much left out here Keep searching Keep digging for air Keep digging for air Not much left out here Just dirt and despair Not much left out here Keep searching Keep digging Not much left out here Just dirt and despair Not much left out here Keep searching Keep digging for air