| Song | Asleep At The Wheel |
| Artist | The Wallflowers |
| Album | The Wallflowers |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Lyrics:Jakob Dylan | |
| Do you ever stop to count all the invitations | |
| At the end of the day when it comes down to one decision | |
| Of dead beat girls and freaks at a peoples convention, | |
| All these sugars with no vitamin sensation. | |
| Do you ever stop to look over old relations, | |
| Or look to the belly of another one's emotions, | |
| Someone young in the winds of a revolution | |
| Trying to save his face in the evolution. | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don't change. | |
| He's kept alive in the chain of mental starvation, | |
| Bone rail skinny, only feeding off frustration. | |
| Unlike you who seem bred from corruption | |
| Feeding off the plates of an ununited nation. | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don't change. | |
| With a lover in the street whose waiting to make a connection | |
| To be the mother to the soul of your next abortion, | |
| She'll steal your money with the eyes of a baby's complexion | |
| Then she'll laugh at you and your sexual invention. | |
| Smelling like a rose, in the flowers of devotion, | |
| Devoted the heat of a spotlight in motion, | |
| With a face full of mud even though you were only joking | |
| As if you really understood the value of isolation. | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don't change. | |
| Your tongue so fast like a freight train coming on rollin' | |
| Every smile you give's just to keep your mouth from clothin' | |
| Every engine burns as a sign of the explosion | |
| Locked in neutral your engines are broken. | |
| Like candle wax that sun melts into the ocean, | |
| Like the moon that lights the tracks of the old train station, | |
| You can color in the lines of mother earth's addictions, | |
| And not hold a gun in the face of the Earth's abduction | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don't change. |
| Lyrics: Jakob Dylan | |
| Do you ever stop to count all the invitations | |
| At the end of the day when it comes down to one decision | |
| Of dead beat girls and freaks at a peoples convention, | |
| All these sugars with no vitamin sensation. | |
| Do you ever stop to look over old relations, | |
| Or look to the belly of another one' s emotions, | |
| Someone young in the winds of a revolution | |
| Trying to save his face in the evolution. | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don' t change. | |
| He' s kept alive in the chain of mental starvation, | |
| Bone rail skinny, only feeding off frustration. | |
| Unlike you who seem bred from corruption | |
| Feeding off the plates of an ununited nation. | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don' t change. | |
| With a lover in the street whose waiting to make a connection | |
| To be the mother to the soul of your next abortion, | |
| She' ll steal your money with the eyes of a baby' s complexion | |
| Then she' ll laugh at you and your sexual invention. | |
| Smelling like a rose, in the flowers of devotion, | |
| Devoted the heat of a spotlight in motion, | |
| With a face full of mud even though you were only joking | |
| As if you really understood the value of isolation. | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don' t change. | |
| Your tongue so fast like a freight train coming on rollin' | |
| Every smile you give' s just to keep your mouth from clothin' | |
| Every engine burns as a sign of the explosion | |
| Locked in neutral your engines are broken. | |
| Like candle wax that sun melts into the ocean, | |
| Like the moon that lights the tracks of the old train station, | |
| You can color in the lines of mother earth' s addictions, | |
| And not hold a gun in the face of the Earth' s abduction | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don' t change. |
| Lyrics: Jakob Dylan | |
| Do you ever stop to count all the invitations | |
| At the end of the day when it comes down to one decision | |
| Of dead beat girls and freaks at a peoples convention, | |
| All these sugars with no vitamin sensation. | |
| Do you ever stop to look over old relations, | |
| Or look to the belly of another one' s emotions, | |
| Someone young in the winds of a revolution | |
| Trying to save his face in the evolution. | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don' t change. | |
| He' s kept alive in the chain of mental starvation, | |
| Bone rail skinny, only feeding off frustration. | |
| Unlike you who seem bred from corruption | |
| Feeding off the plates of an ununited nation. | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don' t change. | |
| With a lover in the street whose waiting to make a connection | |
| To be the mother to the soul of your next abortion, | |
| She' ll steal your money with the eyes of a baby' s complexion | |
| Then she' ll laugh at you and your sexual invention. | |
| Smelling like a rose, in the flowers of devotion, | |
| Devoted the heat of a spotlight in motion, | |
| With a face full of mud even though you were only joking | |
| As if you really understood the value of isolation. | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don' t change. | |
| Your tongue so fast like a freight train coming on rollin' | |
| Every smile you give' s just to keep your mouth from clothin' | |
| Every engine burns as a sign of the explosion | |
| Locked in neutral your engines are broken. | |
| Like candle wax that sun melts into the ocean, | |
| Like the moon that lights the tracks of the old train station, | |
| You can color in the lines of mother earth' s addictions, | |
| And not hold a gun in the face of the Earth' s abduction | |
| Asleep at the wheel, | |
| No windshield, | |
| But you know that the streets | |
| Here don' t change. |