I got me a shovel. And I'm digging a ditch. And I'm going to fight for this four square feet of land like a mean old son of a bitch. I got me a future.
The sky is grey now, not blue. She doesn't love me like she used to. There's a cold wind blowing through these leaves along the track. She doesn't love me like she used to.
When I was sixteen I cut myself a Mohawk,. Because I wanted to walk the walk,. And not just talk the talk,. But it was a bit of a disaster because. I did the sides with kitchen scissors,.
Meet me on the edges of this city. Meet me where the underground runs out. Bring a picnic blanket and your pity. A pen and paper, so I can write things down.
Not everyone grows up to be an astronaut,. Not everyone was born to be a king,. Not everyone can be Freddie Mercu-ry,. But everyone can raise their glass and sing..
Many years back when these old oaks were young,. Not long after the north men had come,. A low and evil deed was done. In the dark of the new forest..
If life gives you demons, make a deal. Meet them at the crossroad, cross your fingers, and sign a seal. Hey philosophers, make way. Pascal never had too much stomach for gambling anyway.
Me and my friend Dan are gonna get some beers. And then we're gonna go down to the park and drink them there. We'll bask out in the song, bring a guitar and play some songs.
Wake up every morning and feel out of place. Put on your face. Once more with resignation. The world won't appreciate greatness today. But there's bills to be paid.
I check that I've got all my things before I leave the house,. Because when I'm gone I'm never coming back.. I'm not being melodramatic, it's just I neither have your number or a key..
As I walked out one morning fair,. I found myself drawn thoughtlessly. Back to the place we used to live,. And you still do, now without me.. . Around the back, away from the road,.
In the day we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream. At night we ride through the mansions of glory in suicide machines. Sprung from cages out on highway 9,.
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Many years back when the old oaks were young. Not long after the Northmen had come. A low and evil deed was done. In the dark of the New Forest. . From the shores of Normandy King William came.
Well, she was an American girl. Raised on promises. She couldn't help thinkin'. That there was a little more to life somewhere else. After all it was a great big world.
History's been leaning on me lately. I can feel the future breathing down my neck. And all the things I thought were. true when I was young, and you were too.
Honestly, relax my dear. It's clear that we are done. It doesn't take a scientist. To figure out that one. It's obvious the way you move. The way you hold your head.
This country is my canvas -. I leave paint trails as I go.. I'm painting a picture. That you can only see from outer space.. My bedroom is your sofa,.
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The demonstrations got boring -. Well it was obvious that the government was ignoring us.. It's hard to drag yourself through empty streets. On an empty stomach and no sleep..