Passionate Nights

I love these nights that fold and unfold like some
  strange suspense, that in night is day
When the engine roars like an African beast and
  we hunters gather around in celebration

An American dream, and letter to wives of men in a
  search for waffles and syrup
Come on Jersey, go to Charleston (I mean Asheville)
  No, wait
lets get the fuck out here
before some government stick job runs down the joint
  do it (donit)
don't forget a blanket, koolaid, grass, motivation, and
a decent firearm, just incase the dream, American
dream finds our gathering, fills up our bellies with
the cheapest wine, when we pass out on the eye of the
Smokeys, he'll fill our minds with mouse and cheese analogies
He'll steal your thoughts, your pupose, and your soul
Come on Emily, Vernon, Steven,
Jersey, god dammit will you come on
we can't waist tonight or the following
must move/keep directions on your lap
the bastard is trailing us
can you see in all vision the fangs
with empty stomachs dripping to his swollen toes
He flies like some evil spirit from his pit
finding souls to tear into
to shred like checks and credit cards
We're there
I see Jersey with his mouth an open door
  in a cave, morose and disfigured
a girl skips
a shuttle bus hides death and destruction
communities run in freezing streets
in a frock
We must have been a waste last night, I mean
this morning, sleeping in a small means of transportation
Drunkenness, people stone you, then devour
I will always be your friend
for that desire that uncontrolling fusion
in an association with love
We're all a bunch of kids
a bunch of fucking kids
but at least we have dreams
and passion to overcome all