Old men run on gasoline from the stations of the past and the things that they can teach you, son, I hope to God they'll ever last. The crow isn't afraid of the man that you put in the field where you plant your food. The mailman doesn't care if your mother died, or anything at all
It's a proven story It's a spoken word and it's a pretty girl that drives me mad, well, they come and go they stay the same you may not see them past, but the things that they can teach you son I hope to God they'll ever last. There's a man with a switchblade knife in the street and there's a man sowing seeds in the hot summer heat they don't even know your name they're always there it's all the same.
Its a proven story its a spoken word and its a pretty girl that drives you mad. In the city place and the market place they'll always rip you off. Take a walk to the country side you might find what you've always sought. I may not know about a goddamn thing about you or anybody else. I'm not afraid of getting away with making judgements about yourself.
Its a proven story its a spoken word and its this life we're living thats so absurd. I like to walk on vacant streets to clear my mind of everything thats crass. I like the wind, I like the rain I like to kick my own ass. It's a proven story its a spoken word. And its this life we're living thats so absurd.