| This is the one in which I miraculously pulled out
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| Of a free-fall dive over Fergus Falls, Minnesota
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| And this is the one like 10 years ago
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| That I told you about
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| Where my wings iced up in the fall, as it gets colder
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| I was concealing his kid, under his crew neck state school sweatshirt
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| While he grinned off in the distance, behind prescription shades
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| They were blocking out the clouded out sun
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| While he was hoping against a daughter
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| And no one saw my banners, my bruises, my flares, my flags
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| I could have been an artist, if I had the tools
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| I could have been a preacher, if I suffered fools
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| When move into the city, I know I’ll have to pay my dues
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| And my respects to his sister and his mother too
|
| This is the one in which I miraculously pulled out
|
| Of a free-fall dive over Fergus Falls, Minnesota
|
| And this is the one like 10 years ago
|
| That I told you about
|
| Where my wings iced up in the fall, it gets colder X 2 |