Walt Whitman (Trampled by Turtles)

Light it up like the city at night Old dark bones in the city Old Walt Whitman and borrowed alcohol We drove fast shaking all the way Like the waves in California Sorry I never know what to say at all Caught in a whirlwind Dry as a bone And I don't think that I can make it On my own On my own, my own On my own, my own On my own, my own Burning love man it never ends I tried but I couldn't make it Yeah your paperback lovers could never pay the bills Worn it once and then let it go Or you may never shake it End up drinking too much and pop a pill Loose like a feather And left here alone And I don't think that I can make it On my own On my own, my own On my own, my own On my own, my own