Outpost

I’m in the groove
I’ve got nothing to prove
I don’t need nobody to tell me
That the groove isn’t smooth
And I’ve got no room
To be boxed up and posted
To Perfect

I’m in the groove
I’m not on the move
Pedalling from here until standstill
Where the trees look up to the sky
Then pasted with glue
Strung up and posted
Too perfect

I’m in the groove
I’m in the groove
I’m tasting my body’s resistance
And I don’t have the courage to whimper
Mud in my eye
I will worship this sky
If it carries me closer
To perfect