| The doorway holds a pile of letters
|
| The weeds in the yard grow oh so high
|
| The clocks in the house have all stopped ticking
|
| But the beat of my heart grows stronger with each stride
|
| A guitar hangs loosely from my shoulders
|
| Old boots on my feet with newspaper inside
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| An eye on the sky to where the sun sets at night
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| I’ll follow it to the edge and beyond
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| And if you know me…
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| I’ve gone to see the world
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| And give it the last that I have left
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| It’s not for anyone to understand
|
| But out on the stage any night could be my last
|
| I’ve gone to see the world
|
| And give it the last that I have left
|
| It’s not for anyone to understand
|
| But out on the stage any night could be my last
|
| bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum… |