Road to Florida - Mekons

Staying up all night

In a motel room

And the alchemy must make sense to me

Heaped up powders, bottles and tubes

It’s all gone upside down

It never turns to gold

I came so close but it slipped away

(He guards his actions, guards his words)

It makes no difference

Now I’ve come this far

They send narcotics agents

To catch a falling star

It’s throbbing so hard

Like a funeral march

Twenty years I’ve been on this road

Out of control when the hammer comes down

When the hammer comes down

Something has to be done

And this is as good as anything

(He guards his actions guards his words)

It makes no difference

All that work and stuff

I know that there’s a place

When things start getting rough

Throbbing so hard

Like a funeral march

Kick away the chair