| What a deal I’ve worked with Father Sky
|
| He’s given me a choice with time
|
| Walking straight on lines
|
| Don’t let our ankles roll
|
| You’ve got to tip toe
|
| Not to hurt your soul
|
| Our bodies take a toll
|
| You move the Pacific
|
| You move…
|
| Tearing through the light of your horizon
|
| I try to find a way to screw my head on right
|
| Tell me to confess, but I have no regrets
|
| You’ve got me by the neck
|
| It’s raw to my leather flesh
|
| I gave my best away
|
| To no one specific
|
| You’re no one specific
|
| A bone chilling culture mess
|
| And still the vulture over my head
|
| Is threatening my sins
|
| Digging deep inside my chest
|
| Realize we’re loving less
|
| Oh, and I gave my best
|
| You move the Pacific
|
| You move…
|
| Tearing through the light of your horizon
|
| I try to find a way to screw my head on right
|
| Tell me to confess, but I have no regrets
|
| You’ve got me by the neck
|
| It’s raw to my leather flesh
|
| I gave my best away
|
| To no one specific
|
| You’re no one specific
|
| Who are you when no one’s watching?
|
| 'Cause I always find myself talking
|
| To someone in time with me
|
| To who do you speak, but never see?
|
| To who do you speak, but never see?
|
| (You're no one specific, you’re no one specific, you’re no one specific)
|
| Tearing through the light of your horizon
|
| I try to find a way to screw my head on right
|
| Tell me to confess, but I have no regrets
|
| You’ve got my be the neck
|
| It’s raw to my leather flesh
|
| I gave my best away
|
| To no one specific
|
| You’re no one specific
|
| (What a deal I’ve worked with Father Sky)
|
| To no one specific
|
| You’re no one specific
|
| (What a deal I’ve worked with Father Sky)
|
| You’re no one specific
|
| You’re no one… |