Karma As A Tour Manager

Never been this far from the ocean before
 The lack of a breeze leaves a cold unease
 In its place there is a sound
 Like someone trying not to make a sound
 Crawling along the hot tarmac
 My whole body a raw wound
 You'll understand paranoia much better
 If you just start following me around
 Don't want to travel in slow motion anymore
 Can't hear a god damned thing except that one ghost sing
 Everything's a big bright blur
 And the tide has surely turned
 Now why did I burn the map?
 There's no chance in hell I'll find my way back
 But new roads will open up
 New paths will have to be learned
 Not much left out here
 Just dirt and despair
 Not much left out here
 Keep searching
 Keep digging
 Not much left out here
 Just dirt and despair
 Not much left out here
 Keep searching
 Keep digging for air
 Keep digging for air
 Not much left out here
 Just dirt and despair
 Not much left out here
 Keep searching
 Keep digging
 Not much left out here
 Just dirt and despair
 Not much left out here
 Keep searching
 Keep digging for air