At these crossroads we either beg or strive for a better life ahead That shell-shocked vision, captivating when youth was stolen Nurturing an awareness of who I am and what I will need to believe If I am going to survive this world with the slightest flame To guide us through the forests of disbelief It must've rattled your skull when the market fell Jeff's wife ran out and he put a shell through his mouth It's a hell of a thing where men go to die The theatres are now a terrain undefined But in this need for self-reliance I'm dodging gutters, motel run-off needles and stumbling twenty-somethings where our daughters tuck their skirts while avoiding the alleyways So if peace was anything, it was a song It was the last word in that defining verse It counted for something, it picked our heads up from the floors And was never in the passing trees, swaying wires or new England leaves, the blood and the bruising in Chicago streets
It was found in you and me while we questioned everything, never to surrender truth and decency Maybe next year when the van leaves us stranded it will all make sense to us Somehow it all makes sense to meTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
