Walt Whitman

Light it up like the city at night

Old dark bones in the city

Old Walt Whitman and borrowed alcohol

We drove fast shaking all the way

Like the waves in California

Sorry I never know what to say at all

Caught in a whirlwind

Dry as a bone

And I don't think that I can make it

On my own

On my own, my own

On my own, my own

On my own, my own

Burning love man it never ends

I tried but I couldn't make it

Yeah your paperback lovers could never pay the bills

Worn it once and then let it go

Or you may never shake it

End up drinking too much and pop a pill

Loose like a feather

And left here alone

And I don't think that I can make it

On my own

On my own, my own

On my own, my own

On my own, my own