Old tombs & velvet hearts
Drip from her tounge & fall apart
whle on his arm & from his heart
The novelist perfects his art

Screaming days & drugs of night
The coast it twists & fades from sight
Carving Cutting his words of pain
Placing them into his viens

Writing cries & living life
The Man exists by the knife
It's on his flesh & in his heart
This poet scribbles and skews his art

Lyrics submitted by III

Highway 101 song meanings
Add your thoughts

No Comments

sort form View by:
  • No Comments

Add your thoughts

Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.

Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!

Back to top