The Flyover Zone

Copyright © 2005 Shawn Merrill and Darrin DeBard

Verse:

Populace in peril. Terror tonight, Paradise Street..

Victimized with jaundiced eyes panned to concrete.

Don’t greet thy neighbor, or speak a friendly hello.

It’s all spun up in hell, with blue sky below

Chorus:

Have we lost our way?

I affirm this true.

Poker face prophets contend the next could be you.

I take exception, and this much I know

I’m a rollover man in the Flyover Zone

Have we lost our way?

I think we’ve lost it!

Verse:

Grown too large, dare we bear the weight?

Conformance to convention, isn’t what made us great

Porous borders and stagnant minds

Best of friends in these worst of times

Verse:

Pacing through the shards and the scorched remains.

Barren landscape, broken, ashamed.

Rattling sabers, wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Poison soil, wormwood, thorns in our wreath

Chorus:

Have we lost our way?

I’d have to agree.

Paper warriors feign superiority over thee.

Yield ground to perception, yet this much I know

I’m a bent-over man in the Flyover Zone

Flyover Zone.

Verse:

I revoke my charter, an endless line I wait.

Skinned my knees outside the pearly gate.

Global communities rise, when the madness ends.

The worst of times with my best of friends.

Chorus:

Have we lost our way?

I’d have to attest.

Wise men with no means, no shoulder to rest.

I’m no exception, and this much I know.

I’m a jaded forty-nothing man in the fly-over zone.

Fourty-nothing man… in the Flyover Zone…

Flyover Zone.