Woke up this morning with my head so heavy.... Thought about leaving on the next train comin'. Sometimes it gets so easy running from town to town. But changing beds won't change this feeling that I'm going to drown.
She doesn't have a face of fashion. just an ordinary look at best. She walks into a room with passion. extraordinary from the rest. It's not the way she wears her hair.
I hate the world today. You're so good to me. I know but I can't change. Tried to tell you. But you look at me like maybe. I'm an angel underneath. Innocent and sweet.
Four long years. I don't know where I've gone. But I'm awake now, so withdrawn. Like pennies on the beach. . King kills pawn. No one sheds a tear. Life goes on.
Drive all night and you're almost home. You sing along a song on the radio. Your dashboard lights and your engine moans. Last time you left was long ago.
Ghost with a name, it used to haunt me. Taunt me with shackles and chains. When I used to believe. But the ghost was alive and hollow inside. Her body still warm with the tears in her eyes.
Thick fog it hangs, it hangs, in the air. For now, our vision's impaired. We can't see far. But we can see right here. . And it feels like something is coming.
What good is a microphone?. When your words, you still don't own. What good is this telephone?. If no one calls to say come home. . So what good good good is good for?.
Even cold wars have their warmer days. When everything stops and we sleep on it, it's when. Cold enemies look like warmer friends. If they don't, let's pretend, hey we've all got some rules to bend.
I'm at the base of the mountain running up hill. You're either running for the top, coming down. Or you're stuck still. It's "Hello, have a seat," then it's farewell.
These bags are carry-on. And filled with many things. Like songs you taught me. On rusty guitar strings. Buried deep inside. Are the shirts off your back.
Hey Sylvan, what's to say?. It feels so strange. To sing your name this way. I'm a loss for words. Still looking for the one. Still searching on the tip of my tongue.
Get your thrills on Strawberry Hill. And all your wounds the berries will fill. It'll make your pain taste sweeter. It's when the time stands still, it'll lean on your will.
Hold on, this big wave. Will wash us all ashore. With nothing left to save. . So leave here, and be brave. There's nothing more in store. For a man that never gave.
Oh, just leave it all. We found the pipe here that leaks between the walls. And like you it begins to all wash away from within. No more time on your side, nothing to tie you here.
So here we are on the edge and looking down. It's here and now, the tick of time is getting loud. You can try, you can try. To have it any way that you like.
Line the room. Find a drink and drain the glass as fast as you can think to. The cheap perfume. In a room of people watching it intoxicates you. They start to play.
I find myself staring at the shelf. With a hundred boxes and I need some help. They all look the same and each seem to claim. That they're better than the other one.
And as a matter of fact. There's a time and a place we can both trace back to. Maybe a concert hall. Playing rock-n-roll or a hole-in-the-wall, too. .
"Where you from?" he asks. "Oh no, that city I always pass". He told me he heard it's so hard to last. On a rising star, that seems to be sinking fast..