Driving down an open highway
Wondering Michael rows
His boat ashore and he does it my way
Then would he ever know
What's underneath the broken starlight
Then totaled on the access raod?
Could he escape by trying to fly away?
And would he know?
Now he's laying bricks on boulders
Sweat beads his crown of thorns
Making a home for junkie vultures
So sure the sun is bored
His dragonflies are made of tissue
They'll burn up at the slightest storm
The flying suit hangs in the closet
Was it ever worn?
I want to know if he can sleep
How clean a castle does he keep?
Not knowing
Not knowing
Not knowing
Not knowing
Not knowing
Not knowing
Driving down an open highway
Wondering if Michael knows
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