Frozen out of focus, the sunday crowd Started dreaming of television turned up too loud. Coded conversation, half baked and tired, Left us sleeping on blacktops burning the motor mile. And underneath the arcade, details collide There's good shopping, but all those patrons have too much style. And moving in slow motion the boulevard started seeping With them half-ravers and techno bars. It is like below the neon sign All speeding past the line and thrashing, i'm in paradise. Sealed in concentration, the lantern lights Started shrinking on dead men drinking white liquor wine. And i asked the complication, the methane gas (?) Started leaking on ba*tards burning half red and black. We can't ride on ________________ time We can't ride on the imperfect time All speeding past the line and thrashing, i'm in paradise. And standing at the gates of nc state fair, Saw you smoking with all those new friends you've got to spare. And melting back in focus the sunday crowd Started sleeping with white trash heroes, tv's turned down. In their eyes, below the neon sky (?) In their eyes, below the neon sky All speeding past the line and thrashing, i'm in paradise. We can't lie below ___________ time We can't lie below imperfect time All dreaming of the white trash heroes on the boulevard. it is like below the neon sky (?) All dreaming of the white trash heroes on the motor mile. it is like below the neon sky All speeding past the line and thrashing on the boulevard. All dreaming of the white trash heroes on the motor mile. We can't lie below ___________ time We can't lie below imperfect time All dreaming of the white trash heroes, i'm in paradise.