stupid freeway lotto numbers

i've killed more than i can eat
and the ground opens up to accept me
bob holds knowledge that few men can
and he whispers gently to the inner ear
so i've forced myself to sleep here
just to wake up in your world
and i'm tired darling tired of leaving
there's a door way in the back where a hammock is displayed
the guitars are always somber and the music lets me play
but i'm growing awful weary of this lonesome bitter feeling
can you spare your sullen neighbor some blood
the ice is overwhelming and i'm dehydrated from telling
all the boys that i love the place
so go to sleep ye powerful abundant lip-readering fools
its a far better fate to be nightmared awake
than to spend your whole life in borrowed r.e.m.