| Now I know I took for granted
|
| That things would always go the way I wanted, oh
|
| I was going to be a treetop
|
| A sea, a boat, a rock of ages
|
| I don’t always get it right
|
| I’d see it in a different kind of light
|
| Pay my lip service, keep it eloquent
|
| Optimistic but never quite elegant
|
| Still a weirdo, still a weirdo
|
| After all these years
|
| I’d always thought it’s automatic
|
| To grow into a soul less static
|
| But here I am upon the same spot
|
| Attempting to lift off into space
|
| I don’t always get it right
|
| But a thousand different ways
|
| And I just might
|
| Pay my lip service, keep it eloquent
|
| Optimistic but never quite elegant
|
| Still a weirdo, still a weirdo
|
| After all these years
|
| Still a weirdo, still a weirdo
|
| After all these years
|
| Pay my lip service, keep it eloquent
|
| Optimistic but never quite elegant
|
| Still a weirdo, still a weirdo
|
| After all these years
|
| Still a weirdo, still a weirdo
|
| After all these years
|
| After all these years |