"Fast car" is kind of a continuation of Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run." It has all the clawing your way to a better life, but in this case the protagonist never makes it with her love; in fact she is dragged back down by him.
There is still an amazing amount of hope and will in the lyrics; and the lyrics themselve rank and easy five. If only music was stronger it would be one of those great radio songs that you hear once a week 20 years after it was released. The imagery is almost tear-jerking ("City lights lay out before us", "Speeds so fast felt like I was drunk"), and the idea of starting from nothing and just driving and working and denigrating yourself for a chance at being just above poverty, then losing in the end is just painful and inspiring at the same time.
These are the unregolater rabbit holes,
barrack homes and taverns
built for devil's acre opium
enthusiasts and baritones
marigold - thegarish allure of the burning barbary
underbelly born of 40 thieves in whorish harmony
hammering for the dark and heartless
harpy, shark and harlot argue breathing room
do not let the arson jeeper creeper you
if we elect the scenic route see it as greener grasses
like morphine after snatch help you forget diseases matter
not to mention 15 cents for either weakens cheaper gamblers
down for hell inside a melting pot
no-one's ever melting, they just yell a lot
stab each other, drink and eat and belly-flop
Murder Point, your thoroughfare
at 12 o'clock is hell and back
EMB to Chinatown
kearny clashing cutters out the netherworld
sydney ducks to pistol fuck the centerfold
every cellar iniquity
pretty killers and pistol petes
might weak up the horse
tearing at yout limbs symmetrically
RIT.
Tomorrow morning, when the wharf if finished warping
you will wash up on the shore and wonder what was so alluring;
Tomorrow evening, when the leeches finish feeding
you will regret the ownership of an aorta that is bleeding.
Before a later bay was calm
disreputable hangers on
would rumble for the hungry
like Montgomery's little Gengis Khans
who plains as day woud operate
in holes where no patrollers go
groggeries that host the most
ignoble dog and pony show
Francis of Assisi in his
grave alone to roller-coast
his opus now a cove where all
the lowest lows can grow and grow
with no sign of a holy ghost
more the polar: horns and rosy cloven toes
bunny-hop claims, fold and overthrow
gangland anchors hit the harbor down for
hangman, shuffle fifty two
and slip the chew behind the fang-span
greenhorn, he just wann help his hammers harmonize
stowed in hell's cargo by the
spark in those wells fargo eyes
and famine wasn't featured in the pamphlet
neither were the cancers
camp was smoking chimney, mantle,
taxidermy antlers
now the sourdough is lifted out
the honeycombs of kitchens
satan out on broadway
and pacific blowing kisses
RIT.
40 winks, pissy at the grizzly, no lullaby
clark's point trollops off the docks to flood and multiply
until a brilliant golden mother-load in the bank
hold up yout drink
she said between her legs that others gol'd pinks
sold it for cheap along the waterfront
wretched little crusters push a fuss of smutty huffing plus
someone itching and discomfort
little wonder you, in public for the buck, it's rugged
rusty cutter gut any cutty drunkard who want it
hellcat maggie, aggie, move to the music
she had learned to spoon pollution
in a climate pruned for losing
thousand more like her in the
cow-yards, moo-ing, ooo-wee,
beneath the brutal harvest moon and UV
not it's the very same foundation on wich you and yours sleep
layers of players over debaucherous troubadour speak
they puff the pathogens and never let the humidors breath
that's why you grew up on a stale tobacco and juniper trees
RIT.
barrack homes and taverns
built for devil's acre opium
enthusiasts and baritones
marigold - thegarish allure of the burning barbary
underbelly born of 40 thieves in whorish harmony
hammering for the dark and heartless
harpy, shark and harlot argue breathing room
do not let the arson jeeper creeper you
if we elect the scenic route see it as greener grasses
like morphine after snatch help you forget diseases matter
not to mention 15 cents for either weakens cheaper gamblers
down for hell inside a melting pot
no-one's ever melting, they just yell a lot
stab each other, drink and eat and belly-flop
Murder Point, your thoroughfare
at 12 o'clock is hell and back
EMB to Chinatown
kearny clashing cutters out the netherworld
sydney ducks to pistol fuck the centerfold
every cellar iniquity
pretty killers and pistol petes
might weak up the horse
tearing at yout limbs symmetrically
RIT.
Tomorrow morning, when the wharf if finished warping
you will wash up on the shore and wonder what was so alluring;
Tomorrow evening, when the leeches finish feeding
you will regret the ownership of an aorta that is bleeding.
Before a later bay was calm
disreputable hangers on
would rumble for the hungry
like Montgomery's little Gengis Khans
who plains as day woud operate
in holes where no patrollers go
groggeries that host the most
ignoble dog and pony show
Francis of Assisi in his
grave alone to roller-coast
his opus now a cove where all
the lowest lows can grow and grow
with no sign of a holy ghost
more the polar: horns and rosy cloven toes
bunny-hop claims, fold and overthrow
gangland anchors hit the harbor down for
hangman, shuffle fifty two
and slip the chew behind the fang-span
greenhorn, he just wann help his hammers harmonize
stowed in hell's cargo by the
spark in those wells fargo eyes
and famine wasn't featured in the pamphlet
neither were the cancers
camp was smoking chimney, mantle,
taxidermy antlers
now the sourdough is lifted out
the honeycombs of kitchens
satan out on broadway
and pacific blowing kisses
RIT.
40 winks, pissy at the grizzly, no lullaby
clark's point trollops off the docks to flood and multiply
until a brilliant golden mother-load in the bank
hold up yout drink
she said between her legs that others gol'd pinks
sold it for cheap along the waterfront
wretched little crusters push a fuss of smutty huffing plus
someone itching and discomfort
little wonder you, in public for the buck, it's rugged
rusty cutter gut any cutty drunkard who want it
hellcat maggie, aggie, move to the music
she had learned to spoon pollution
in a climate pruned for losing
thousand more like her in the
cow-yards, moo-ing, ooo-wee,
beneath the brutal harvest moon and UV
not it's the very same foundation on wich you and yours sleep
layers of players over debaucherous troubadour speak
they puff the pathogens and never let the humidors breath
that's why you grew up on a stale tobacco and juniper trees
RIT.
Lyrics submitted by Zenn
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"These are the unregolater rabbit holes" WTF? It should be "unregulated rabbit holes"
Sounds like he's talking about regretting doing drugs when you wake up the day after... Also seems to describe maybe a fictional or exaggerated town where drugs are rampant
This is SICK!