Readymade - Beck

An open road where I can breathe

Where the lowest low is calling to me

I can pull myself back up back down

Stuck together like a readymade

And nobody knows where we been

Canceled rations are running thin

Watches tick out of tune

Falling apart like a readymade

My bags are waiting

In the next life

Rubbish piles fresh and plain

Empty boxes in a pawn shop brain

License plates stowaway

Standing in line like a readymade

And my bags are waiting

in the next life

An open road where I can breathe

Where the lowest low is calling to me

I can pull myself back up back down

Stuck together like a readymade

And my bags are waiting

in the next life