Back-Roads To Hell

you're unable to stop, just missed a sudden drop
you're out of control, and every corner has a cop
looking for a sign that puts you on the map
red lights and caution invite you into their trap

drive the low road
past dismembered signs
you're on the back-roads to Hell
riding shotgun for your crimes

underbrush and dirt trails
were with you from the start
you let the big bad world
tap dance over your eggshell heart
looking past a helping hand
you're unable to stop
as you tumble and land
at the bottom of the sudden drop

you drive your world crazy
as your world drives you blue
there's no light enough to shine
on the dark filled best of you

drive the low road
past dismembered signs
you're on the back-roads to Hell
riding shotgun for your crimes

(Gary Grasso, Bob Intini)