Painted a picture of how it's supposed to turn out, turn out. Down in a cold, dirty well and I cannot climb out, climb out. Can't see no light, can't hear no bells.
I threw a bottle in the air. And it smashed into a thousand pieces on a concrete street. Where the children play at their feet. . Ran as fast as we could.
When did you unfold, slowly turn cold. And finalize your soul?. Well, I will not be the one to tell your momma. That her son has gone. . From and out the moment we locked eyes.
I'm tired of getting postcards. And tired of paying long distance bills. Baby be back soon. I'm tired of dreaming of sex. And tired of not being able to show my skills.
There's something in your eyes. Is everything alright?. You look up to the sky. You long for something more. . Darling, give me your right hand. I think I understand.