The Collector

<p>How do you kill the moon? When it’s over your shoulder shining on you till it’s dead You drive in your car ever faster Down ancient roads, fueled by the maps in your head</p><p>There’s and old lady, she’s a collector And the town where she sleeps is her bed She scoops up some dirt into a plastic bag so she will never forget she was there</p><p>Out on the highway there are two men in suits With bright yellow stars on their chests There covered in ashes from head to toe this is a memory that she always tried to forget</p><p>And all of her friends they’re stored in boxes up on the shelf And she never really had the chance to tell them that she loved them Or anything of the sort</p><p>I suppose they bent the rules Buried the lies and painted us fools So I guess it’s true this town is full of rumors Steady old man they’ve got no sense of humor.</p>