The Roadhouse by Totem Of The Heart Lyrics

Radios are moaning in static,
The clock hands are striking with fear
Jackals cleanse the sullen streets
As the wildest hours draw nearer

The back of the roadhouse was bestrewed with trailers and tents,
As well as a few rickety motel-style rooms
Which were oversized and divided
And littered with besmeared wallpaper,
As well as disputable linen which was tangled in a ragged heap

Outsidе, an ongoing picnic party was brought to a sudden halt,
And on the shore, a burning hеap of hypodermics grew wild
Out in the night, the sun became an indistinct moon
And the breeze dried and crumbled, and stroked the lips of June