| Spit |
|---|
| Once it seemed to be the way things are |
| Now it seems the way that it will be |
| It’s happening to me |
| It’s happening to me |
| Once we use to love to lose our minds |
| Now it seems the tables have been turned |
| My head is losing me |
| My head is losing me |
| Once we used to spit into the wind |
| It’s coming back to me |
| We used to spit into the wind |
| It’s coming back to me |
| Nothing rather rides a rusty mule |
| By a fire stop, the story tell |
| Another one for free |
| I’m not listening to me |
