place where I need to end, but where do I begin?... What is that I see? Am I exiting this dark place? Is it light I see? I've reached the end of this
I told you my life was hurt Spring, summer, winter and fall Tell me what to do with this fame ya'll And do my songs matter at all? Tell them to forget the video (And
This is a song, not like the other ones, secret and selfish and somewhat hollow. In the middle of this song there seemed to grown another Of indeterminate
the age of fifteen like young men In the service swerving and curving through potholes And gutter snipes and rotweillers and bottom feeders Spring autumn and winter
I used to sit with my dad in the garage That sawdust that pine sol and the moss Around every spring when the winter thaw We?d huddle around the radio