When I woke up this morning I did not get out of bed, instead I sent my brain fishing down inside my head The night before seemed bait enough, thought I might just catch a thought or two but when I pulled my line aboard I found the hook bit right in two
Now I'm yelling at the wind for blowing, crying at the creek for flowing all the while I know it's me to blame The whiskey it don't drink itself, the mind it don't just change itself, I don't always have to answer to my name
Some say that they saw Jesus when they looked into her face, but I think it's something all her own I see a much deeper grace Now some will hang their heads in prayer, some will speak in feathered verse, still the course of life won't change and death it is no curse
Still I'm yelling at the wind for blowing, crying at the creek for flowing, all the while just staring through her eyes, searching for the light inside or something I might recognize but I guess that she already said goodbye
Have you ever seen the anger of a frying egg? How when it's trapped inside a pan it'll crack itself instead? Now the suicide is out of spite for it sees there is no escape and you're left yourself denied the yolk that your teeth wanted so badly to break
And now yelling at the wind for blowing, crying at the creek for flowing, all the while I know I'll get my fill Should have kept the heat down low and burning, but I guess I'm still jut learning cursing at an egg already spilled Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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