I just sit there
|
And let the thoughts flood
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And I remind myself, "It's all right, it's all good, it's all love"
|
It's not though
|
|
Cause there's a kink in the armor
|
A pot hole I'm sinking 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 knowing that I'll play chicken soon
|
|
There's a vanity plate
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With my name on it
|
There's a Davey Crockett hat with a Masonic fat cat under it
|
|
A musket rifle spitting 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
|
Losing control
|
|
Guilty feet do have rhythm
|
They just dance to the wrong theme music to amuse the villain
|
Instead of killing, I'll spare the raccoon
|
And start filling sandbags as I stare at the moon and let the thoughts flood
|
|
Blessed are those who are dammed
|
When the levee broke
|
How many choked on the steps to 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
|
|
Cause there's a kink in the armor
|
A pot hole I'm sinking in
|
Sharing a drink with my father
|
|
It's a family affair
|
The vanity we share
|
|
The waterline is rising and all we do is stand there [x6]
|
|
-----------------
|
Water Line
|
| Sage Francis |
