Kelly Boesch - Smoke Signals

Someone's bottling salvation in a clove cigarette.
Preacher on the airwaves, guru on the fly,
Everyone's got directions to a place they can't find.
Talk, talk, talk till the signal drops low,
Trading slivers of something they don't really know.
Round and round like a wheel with no road,
Everyone's heavy with someone else's load.
So fold up that gospel and button your coat,