I got nothing to hide I'm as naked as the day I was born In November and you know what they say Thursday's child has far to go, don't I know
I got far to go, should I leave you behind And drive to Alaska on Saturday night These four walls around me are keeping out the light
No one's riding shotgun, I'm driving alone I can turn up the music and do whatever I want When I get to the border, put a quarter in a payphone
Oh, my tyranny's gonna crumble And so, sit next to me and fumble with the buttons on my dress What do you want to be? I wanna be a poet
To get down on my knees and unplug your drain I feel an ache in my bones every time that it rains And when I look up at the sun and the sky, I tell time
If something is leaking, just give me a call There's a tear on your cheek, there's a crack in the wall I can soak up the water with the folds of my black shawl
Oh, my tyranny's gonna crumble And so, sit next to me and fumble with the buttons on my dress What do you want to do? I wanna watch you stumble
Stumble through this fertile land In your pocket are both my hands When you get to the other side The northern lights and a blanket of white
I wanted to be a singer, so I grew my hair long I needed a guitar slinger to push me along To fill out my verse and my chorus with a baritone
I got nothing to hide, I'm laying it out there Take it or leave it, you can figure it out "Thursday's child has far to go," I'm gonna shout
Oh, my tyranny's gonna crumble And so, sit next to me and fumble with the buttons on my dress Buttons on my Buttons on my dressTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
