Off Grid Lyrics

The long and the short of it is, fortune, it favors the brave

Not even the safest escapist is waiving the grave

And I you want the skinny, ain't any of us bustin' out

The rib cage jail is frail but it shelters our doubt

Who woulda thunk! Was such a slam dunk

But we couldn't keep our ball in the air.

Too much to juggle. We hit a bit of trouble

When the pocket-money started to flare

The mind in a bind of its own design

The neurons burn to a crisp

Between the bootlegging and everybody begging

Money, it talks with a lisp

Little bit of heaven to live off-grid.

Wonder how far from the par we slid

Of all of the evil that Knievel ever did

It paled to the play of a child

Frankie and Johnny by the wayside

With Joanie and Chaci. Bonnie and Clyde

The Canon-flash catches us on our bad side

The guy and the gal got guile!

The fist of resistance, the finger of fate

The thumb stands opposed. By the road it waits

For something to stop. Some, they succumb to the sun

The poke of a knife in the night or the snipe of a gun

It's neither here nor there

In as much as we are aware

No need to get snide. It's just inside

Some day-sleepin' guy's nightmare

The mind in a bind of its own design

The neurons burn to a crisp

Between the bootlegging and everybody begging

Money, it talks with a lisp