Traffic Of Souls - Cass McCombs

Some souls travel underneath the night

Slinking around in the dark, where habits invite

Some souls travel underneath a star

The gallery of Heaven is fixed, that’s the law

Some souls travel just to patrol

Weaving in and out of the Traffic of Souls

Some souls travel where the light is hot

Throw a beach towel over a Black Hole and say, «Family Plot»

Some souls wander into Lightning’s flash

Their hearts were designed for racing, then to turn to ash

Some souls' traveling takes its toll

Forgetting how they were first swept up into the Traffic of Souls

Some souls travel where the coin is tossed

Heads you’re homebound, tails you’re lost

Some souls travel only north to south

Their compass points directly into Hell’s mouth

For those souls, traveling itself is the goal

Until they’re sold and spit back into the Traffic of Souls