To much patience
|
No resistance
|
Within shouting distance you can hear a blind mans bluff
|
Dragging names through the mud instead of biting his tongue
|
The devils in the air and I'm spitting out prayers
|
While the rubber necks all get their fill
|
|
Tell me, tell me a story
|
Tell me not to worry
|
Or pick up the phone
|
So I'm turning, turning a deaf ear
|
So that I don’t hear
|
him throwing stones
|
|
To much hog wash not enough hear say
|
always made the front page
|
He could use a fine tooth comb
|
to get a word from the wise
|
Would be a welcome surprise
|
Keep an ear to the ground so to drown out the sound
|
cause the dead air is what made me whole
|
|
Tell me, tell me a story
|
Tell me not to worry
|
Or pick up the phone
|
So I'm turning, turning a deaf ear
|
So that I don’t hear
|
him throwing stones
|
|
These walls don’t talk
|
Even when somebody knocks
|
These walls don’t stand
|
For anyone else but themselves
|
These walls wont fall
|
Even when gravity's failing us all
|
|
Tell me, tell me a story
|
Tell me not to worry
|
Or pick up the phone
|
So I'm turning, turning a deaf ear
|
So that I don’t hear
|
him throwing stones
|
|
HEY! HEY! HEY!
|
|
-----------------
|
Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes
|
| Fair To Midland |
