Down at the drugstore where they sell medicine back in the corner stands a plywood Superman. He never saves nobody from nothing. He just leans against the wall looking sad.
Me, I go climbing on my broken ladder. Aiming for high places, but I never quite can lay two hands on the heart of the matter. Sometimes I feel like that plywood Superman.
Last night at the truck stop, the cashier at the diesel desk stopped to talk to me as I paid for my beer. She's single with 2 kids, says she loves Las Vegas. Her dream's one day some rich man will take her away from here.
When she goes climbing on her broken ladder, she's searching for some sweet, far-off promised land. But nobody never breaks free of nothing wrapped in the arms of a plywood superman.
Now my old daddy, he worked in a factory, and he used to beat on me with his mind not his hands. And though for ten years he's laid in that grave in Birmingham, to this day I still hear him saying what a useless thing I am.
When I go climbing on my broken ladder, I'm searching for something but what I don't understand is how you can climb forever and still never reach nothing... trapped in your life like some plywood superman.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
