You know I'm afraid To write a simple song Not out of shape as you are At being wrong And the people we were Are now dying in reverse Are now having to work out the second part The second part
Ripe as a fruit That tired sunset's sighing Slam down the pan That used to be for frying Now it's your mouthpiece Your pipe and your reed The line you keep Between your anger and me The thought of hurting me Sometimes sets you free Sets you free
You say you know Every mole and skin tag Like it makes you wiser to The person I am Well a man and his church Always confusing people There's no hill steeper Than trying to get to equal Trying to get to equal
And the people that we were Make no promise of return But appear every now and again In candles and furniture In movies and the way they hurt Music and the way it stirs Our fingers and alphabets Ballerinas dancing up on those frets Is this as good as it gets When we get it right? Get it right
