I just sit there, and let the thoughts flood And I remind myself: '?it's all right, it's all good, it's all love'? It's not though. Cuz there's a kink in the armor A pot hole I'm sinkin' in, while I think of the drama So I stand up, I start to pace in my living room Set my eye to the highway, knowin' that I'll play chicken soon There's a vanity plate, wit my name on it There's a Davy Crocket hat with a Masonic fat cat under it A musket rifle spittin' at my feet They want me to dance in the middle of the street And I respect my elders, so I do as I'm told But I offset the bell curve when I do it with soul. Losin' control. Guilty feet do have rhythm They just dance to the wrong theme music to amuse the villain. Instead of killin', I spare the raccoon And start fillin' sand bags as I stare at the moon and let the thoughts flood. Blessed are those who are damned When the levee broke, how many choked on the steps of a slow dance? A staircase to a hug with no hands Accountability hung out to dry on the line of command We let the thoughts flood We remind ourselves it's all right, it's all good, it's all love'? It's not though. Cuz there's a kink in the armor A pot hole I'm sinkin' in, sharing a drink with my father It's a family affair, the vanity we share The water line is rising and all we do is stand there.
Compositores: Mark Isham (Isham Mark Ware), Paul F Landry (Sage Francis) ECAD: Obra #3074698