| Freedom seems to haunt you
|
| But the voice ain’t that familiar
|
| Action seems to call you
|
| But you’re feeling quite the same
|
| Seasons from with torture
|
| Yet your feet can’t find the ground
|
| Reeling from the pressure
|
| And this isn’t safer ground
|
| You can’t justify your shameless ways
|
| Actions from the homeland
|
| Does that mean the party’s over?
|
| Feelings not divided
|
| And your shoes will hit the ground
|
| Checking from the family
|
| We’re living without wisdom
|
| Trying to gain an inch
|
| On this southern ground
|
| You can’t justify your shameless ways
|
| Way to hard to see what’s in yourself
|
| You can’t read the meaning in that soul, oh yeah
|
| Living on the outskirts
|
| Of the town in West Dakota
|
| Trying to fix the barn
|
| Somethin' is tryin' to us
|
| And they’re hard to get away from
|
| Got to beat your death
|
| But we have to live this way
|
| You can’t justify your shameless
|
| Way too hard to see what’s in yourself
|
| You can’t read the meaning in that soul oh yeah
|
| It’s way too hard to see what’s in yourself
|
| You can’t read the meaning in that soul oh yeah |