Fax Machine - Astronautalis

Everyone’s called off the searches

Faces that nobody knows

The devil is hiding in churches

The sun has burned my eyes

Got me making that face again

I’m driving my dented car in donuts

Listening to that same old mixtape, my friend

The one that starts and ends

With odds and ends and a dumb dance song

As a troubled name with a subtle way

Is saying that she thinks that I’m handsome

As shuttles crash and buildings fall

And diseases fly on airplanes

I wonder where the romance has gone

Peter, Dan, and Tom got us by the purse strings

I want to build you a house

In the country, with the son of Michael Landon

But I want to protect my couch

And my collection of rusty handguns

It’s as tough as nails, as tough as tigers

As tough as tricky shots

But I believe the dreams of my father

It’s the only dreams that I’ve got

I’ve never seen the top

Give me a good, solid lay of the land

But I guess a guess is just a guess

And the first step to finding the facts at hand

I hate the bleeding hearts and hard-heads

As much as the nervous man hates the taste of a stutter

You know what they say: in the land of the blind

The man with one eye’s on every tabloid cover

It’s not a case of me vs. the others

1,000 monkeys vs. man

Before the Lord lays me down to sleep

I pray that you’ll understand

I need my room to breathe

My own private patch of dirt

Where I can raise my sheep and make my beats

And teach my kids to curse

I need a sandwich and a hammock

But not a butler or a reporter

Just a couple good folk to watch my back

But never watch over my shoulder

It’s as pretty as a picture

And it stands alone without a frame

That’s why it sits all silent inside my wallet

Waiting for you to see my dreams