In the front seat of your convertible car I'm awaiting your return Watching sunshine flash and my cigarette ash til the corporate logo burns You picked me up at the County Cook Psychiatry Institute It's my first day free. I've got nowhere to be so I'm coming home with you Just a quick stop off at the drugstore I'm not ready, so I wait in the car for you
You asked me who I might like to see on my first night back outside But my friends are few and my lover is through and my family's horrified We ride along through the silent dusk while the moon gets drunk and high It's a cold white stone up in heaven alone and I've seen its darker side You ask again and the words come out So easy, they bypass my conscious mind
Point me toward the real motherfuckers Point me toward the real I've been lied to and abused Time to try to heal Cut me loose, cut me loose Let me get hurt, let me feel Cut my bound hands free and Point me toward the real
Now ever since I was a little child I have felt the same old fear That I alone will freeze while the world proceeds, I'll be forever stuck right here But I can't live the old way, that way nearly left me dead I need someone new who can tell me the truth and I don't care who it is I want the knife in deep, aw, and I want someone to give it a twist
We're coming into the city now and I've only said it once It's a phrase so clean, I don't know what it means, but it's more than I've said in months You never ask what I did that made the cops fin'lly pick me up You wanna know where I'm trying to go, where I'll be, not where I was I say it one more time, you nod and smile, and it's better than all the drugs
Point me toward the real motherfuckers Point me toward the real I've been lied to and abused Time to try to heal Cut me loose, cut me loose See what freedom might reveal Cut my bound hands free and Point me toward the real
(Aah, aah Aah, aah Aah, aah Aah, aah)
Compositor: Ezra Mordechai Furman (Ezra Furman) ECAD: Obra #37782124