|
No one twisting his arm |
|
Okay, 1,2,3 now |
|
Well, I should have spent tonight out finding some good ledge |
|
It's time to look at long shots, the cheap end of the wedge |
|
You used to hear our fights half a block away |
|
I'm wondering now which ones I could have lost to make her stay |
|
Well, I call a friend of mine and say I haven't heard a thing |
|
The world has made you tired, wound down the driving spring |
|
He says you're still a child and I hope you never change |
|
But I can't jump at every chance that's moving out of range |
|
Second hand slow now |
|
I don't know how |
|
Hours got right of way |
|
On the verge of a perfect day |
|
The slate I got clean won't stay clean long |
|
And the love I got over won't stay gone |
|
But the pain of the slip through fingers lingers on |
|
Well, run the blacktop circuit, find the ethnic buys |
|
Who is going to love this place when the trade route dies |
|
Gassed to make the coast homes, roll the windows tight |
|
Young men it's not your concern where money spends the night |
|
I... |
|
New top guns I say glad to shake your hand |
|
Lots don't get so lucky and luck is what will stand |
|
Find you've got no grip on anything that lasts |
|
And all you party boys had best get serious and fast |
|
Hearts at each side go |
|
High now then low |
|
What will make the race? |
|
Maybe leaving without a trace |
|
The slate I got clean won't stay clean long |
|
And the love I got over won't stay gone |
|
But the pain of the slip through fingers lingers on |
|
The slate I got clean won't stay clean long |
|
And the love I got over won't stay gone |
|
But the pain of the slip through fingers lingers on |
