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All I want is writing songs,
Spending time like pennies gone,
To have the book`s last page exist,
My car and keys not left to sit.
I can`t make it easy as green,
Make it all abstract, please;
Eyes closed, swingin` on the porch swing,
Take me somewhere unlike this bombed routine.
Is it all I want?
Is that what I need,
When five minutes pass
And this valley still sees
No city lights awake
Since all packed up and left
With a smile on their minds
at a joke I`d never get?
Who would stare at a screen
Saying what you don`t want?
Who would tolerate the voices
when you`d rather go get caught?
Red meets blue with daggers drawn,
I won`t stop now, the fight is on;
Watch my two sides battle firm
and bury each other in turn.
Is it all I want?
Is that what I need,
When five minutes pass
And this valley still sees
No city lights awake
Since all packed up and left
With a smile on their minds
at a joke I`d never get?
Take the strong beat they`ve ignored,
Make them hear what you listened for.
Can you taste the salt on your parched throat?
Do I care right now if you curse or coast?
Reason one still marks that house up north,
miles from the other, which holds no worth. |