Driving down an open highway  Wondering Michael rows  His boat ashore and he does it my way  Then would he ever know  What's underneath the broken starlight  Then totaled on the access raod?  Could he escape by trying to fly away?  And would he know?  Now he's laying bricks on boulders  Sweat beads his crown of thorns  Making a home for junkie vultures  So sure the sun is bored  His dragonflies are made of tissue  They'll burn up at the slightest storm  The flying suit hangs in the closet  Was it ever worn?  I want to know if he can sleep  How clean a castle does he keep?  Not knowing  Not knowing  Not knowing  Not knowing  Not knowing  Not knowing  Driving down an open highway  Wondering if Michael knows