| So here I am, baby
|
| Right back where I’d been
|
| I’ve been tossed around and twisted up
|
| I’m on the outside lookin' in
|
| Every mountain has its valley
|
| Every valley has its climb
|
| I got the weary blues from tryin'
|
| 'Cause it’s uphill all the time
|
| It’s been a long, long line…
|
| I don’t believe in angels
|
| That watch you in the dark
|
| You’re born alone, you die alone
|
| You ride lonesome from the start
|
| I’ve been chasing after fortune
|
| I’ve been running after fame
|
| It’s like trying to paint the sides
|
| Of a fast moving train
|
| It’s a long line…
|
| These days are hard to figure
|
| And so damn hard to take
|
| When they’re passing on the real thing
|
| And just buying what is fake
|
| Last night I had a dream
|
| And I hope it’s no sign
|
| That there was no end
|
| To this long, long line
|
| I remember the old photo
|
| And the letter that you sent
|
| I was so straight back then
|
| Now I’m twisted and I’m bent
|
| Blossoms on the tree
|
| They’re so delicate and fine
|
| But when they fall from the branch
|
| They just wither down with time
|
| I can’t help myself no matter how I try
|
| Desire has no rest
|
| And anger has no eyes
|
| Some people believe in miracles
|
| They say it happens all the time
|
| But I’m still waiting for the man
|
| Who turns water into wine
|
| It’s a long, long line… |