We could sit in here and
drink right through the night
Hear the tales of drugs and
alcohol and fights
And where the stories go around
the car park and the snow
But it's a black an d white
world to live inside
Marx was wrong and
Groucho's gone
Give chance a piece of
what's going on
The little white lines and the long white
lines
Only hide the cracks in
what we're standing
on
We are born and we be
come what we are
Strong between the lines of a guitar
Many seem to want what none
would sure let
Let's use again the graves of rockers
You don't have to suffer like you do
This is the strangest place you've been
Sat in the back of a stretched limousine
You drink to a smell,
the warmest left alive
A drink is an article of faith
To someone with more than one face
To show to the world
When you cannot sneak it past
And you'll want to have it all
ahead of time
They're written on each
granite slab of stone
Above the bleaching brittle bones
The numbers don't add up ,
there's no word sure
Let's use again,
the graves of rockers
Few things hurt more
Than being ignored
Face up in the bath,
a stupid smile upon your face
You only forgot why you'd
done it at all
They're written on each
slab of frozen stone
Above the bleaching, brittle bones
The numbers don't add up ,
there's not much
sure to choose again
The graves of rock -earth
Were born,
then we become what we are
Strong between the lines of a guitar
Many seem to own what none
would surely choose again
The graves of rockers
The graves of rockers
you