| I always liked to watch the weather
|
| Hoping for some disaster
|
| To gather us in the dark
|
| We’d huddle up against it
|
| It was a funny little spark
|
| In that predictable world
|
| Of bonehead boys and flipped out girls
|
| I could use that familiar roster back again now
|
| To hassle my heart
|
| Oh to be humiliated
|
| With such short memory
|
| Redemption always waited
|
| In terry cloth, under the seagrape tree
|
| With promises that terrified me
|
| Oh yeah
|
| But with a smile and one tan arm around my shoulder
|
| Politics was foreign, and sex for when you’re older
|
| Well that got better, the rest got worse
|
| And now every horse I dream about is pulling a hearse
|
| Well all my songs used to end the same way:
|
| «Everything's gonna be okay»
|
| You fuckers make that impossible to say
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Now I still watch the weather
|
| I drag you outside when the black clouds gather
|
| The hair stands up on your arms I know
|
| And you run back inside calling «I told you so»
|
| While I embarrass my family and friends
|
| And those who just wanna wake up in dry clothes |
| All I can feel is the brake set to coast
|
| Here comes the steep hill
|
| And now down we go
|
| Well all my songs used to end the same way:
|
| «Everything's gonna be okay»
|
| You fuckers make that impossible to say
|
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
|
| Well all my songs used to end the same way:
|
| «Everything's gonna be okay»
|
| Now I find that’s impossible to say |