I know a man who walked across the country,
The road was his wife the white lines his family,
Street signs counted his age.
He was 8,000 miles to the day when he got back home.
I saw graffiti up high on a tower,
It read if life is a garden then love is the flower,
It seemed a little bit too easy until I thought of how hard it would be,
To get way up there.
There's no passion without desire,
No conductor without the choir,
Or a hot flame without the fire to keep it burning strong.
Well the old train driver was somber and patient,
But his run-away train had just left the station,
A silly story or moral tale,
When his brakes began to fail he began to smile?
There's no passion without desire,
No conductor without the choir,
Or a hot flame without the fire to keep it burning strong,
So why don't you light yourself on fire,
Let it go, let it burn let it roll.
The road was his wife the white lines his family,
Street signs counted his age.
He was 8,000 miles to the day when he got back home.
I saw graffiti up high on a tower,
It read if life is a garden then love is the flower,
It seemed a little bit too easy until I thought of how hard it would be,
To get way up there.
There's no passion without desire,
No conductor without the choir,
Or a hot flame without the fire to keep it burning strong.
Well the old train driver was somber and patient,
But his run-away train had just left the station,
A silly story or moral tale,
When his brakes began to fail he began to smile?
There's no passion without desire,
No conductor without the choir,
Or a hot flame without the fire to keep it burning strong,
So why don't you light yourself on fire,
Let it go, let it burn let it roll.