All good things, all good things All good things, all good things Not sure where to go Everybody I know says I'm too forgiving And now that I'm gone
You never change your mind once it's made up Unless it's to crawl back on your knees Is that the way you want it? You get back to the wall And put your
Yesterday when you were young Everything you needed done was done for you Now you do it on your own But you find you're all alone, what can you do? You
Take the sky for example, a canvas of a billion suns But our local hero shines them out by day Save for the winking of a Venus or Mars Even the stars
It's hard to say what you mean to me Everyone is scenery So you take a late night drive alone Trying to get home Oh come on, come on, come on Give me
Old Coyote waits out there With his gray-brown hair and his three-mile stare I walk backwards trhough the air Devil may care, the devil may care now
Do you disapprove? Alright, you made your point You don't have to choose right now I don't have the time to stop into that joint No one wants to see my
All this beauty; You might have to close your eyes And slowly open wide All this beauty; We traveled all night We drank the ocean dry And watched the
Red dirt road in Tennessee Red dirt mud, slow wet feet Red dirt clay stuck in my heart Clogging up the way The tears come through I'm blue, just blue
I don't know why, I don't know why I don't know why it takes so long I cut my hair, I grow it back First the thought and then the act To think a plant
You named me judge the day that I was born You asked too much to fix what you had torn Things got out of hand, now I understand And I'm out of your range
Sometimes it's hard to say Even one thing true When all eyes have turned aside They used to talk to you And people on the streets seem to disapprove So
Left behind everything I knew All the colors but bone-white and sky-blue Hit the continent running Engines were humming just to break through Antarctica
Trying not to hope too hard for what I want Trying not to go too far with all the dreaming Oh, the disappointment, so hard to handle I'm still in the
Vertaling: Weepies, die. Hideaway.
