Chee Malabar:
Feel restless, should you change addresses/change directions, a much needed respite/from beating yourself up with those deeds you detested/in that stretch in that desert/ back now from that scrapyard, brain full of hazmat/awoke with the shivers, shaken by a flashback/brand new you starin' in the mirrors glare/soak your face, pluck all your silver hairs/still seein' slivers of light/on a dark noon, harpoon whoever spit this plight/ in the belly of this crucible/on your grind, see the grime on your cuticles/still struggle with the issues told your friends you conquered/ Vicodin, scotch, and the death that you long for/sayin' this land that’s in front of me/ is all that I have, I'm just a man without a country.

Chorus
Chee Malabar Where’d the years go? where the prophets, where the seers, where the tears go?/
On this lonely road, this lonely road, this lonely, lonely, lonely dusty road.

Verse
Chee Malabar:

There you go leaving home again/ say bye to your mom-your homey-only friend/mom safe drive safe and keep phonin' in/known' you ain't comin’ back home again/damn, on the road thinking 'bout her tearful/her house gettin' smaller in the rear view/went a long way just to get lost again/tossed your cross and burned your good book/how to explain the pain and the lives that your faith took/don't know what you here for/ god's wasting her breath giving deaf man an earful/adhere to your needs, embrace your dysfunctions/face your fears, tread hard on your punctures/just the life you were given/ so you wince at the sun and tilt your life's prism/Man without a country: unforgiven.

Chorus
Chee Malabar
Where’d the years go? where the prophets, where the seers, where the tears go?/
On this lonely road, this lonely road, this lonely, lonely, lonely dusty road.


Verse
Chee Malabar:
On an open road with blow in your nose/fear and loathin’, cloaked by the coke/ open skies watched by doped up eyes/saggin' heavy, pushin' a scratched up black Chevy/two days away from a church in Santa Fe/the last verse from Coltrane's “Pursuance” plays/The path to redemption is littered with syringes/letters, fringe friends, bitter as a sentence/on an outpost that read, "There is no god, no repentance/ no divine laws, just men who pen amendments/Penance is for the weak, the meek inherit hurt/the strong willed work, grin and bear it then smirk"/And some say, "damn, you lost your will to live”/how can one kill something that never lived/Killed for God and Country, you severed kids/crossed rivers, tossed grenades and burned down a bridge/A village raised him; one order blazed them/makes you want to dig up earth and find where the graves end/and sleep beside ‘em, instead of this pavement/carved beside the brick and mortar unsafe dens/ rest haven for vices, best trained for crisis/can't numb the pain with rum mixed in with Nyquil/you feel a slight chill, see the sights of the church steeple in the nights shrill/gettin' closer to god.