Sometimes I get to thinking there’s a hand upon the dial
Every time I move forward something turns me back around
A warpath worn into a soft white cloud
A dream catcher lying on the roadside shoulder

And state line comes again, I pass through flying
Got to keep on top of it, it’s almost night 
The gas station hopping and the motel light
Flicking on and off again, a flare before me

And it just keeps turning around

Feedback burning in a dark blue sky
The theater curtains and the bar crowd forming
Sweat on the microphone, I lean back blind
In a state of unraveling a stolen story

Oh my god I go around again
There’s a heavy wind and the rain keeps coming
Sing it soft so they all lean in, give them everything, give them all you got

It just keeps turning around

Sometimes I get to thinking there’s a hand upon the dial
Turn it down, let the truth come crashing
If I don’t believe it then no one will
So I brace myself, til the next town passes