You are everywhere, within and without
|
where it don't matter what we used to do now
|
where I feed my people when I get behind the plow
|
when I write the tiger hanging on by his eyebrows
|
somehow where the gang in me
|
is being all that it can be
|
somehow part hope is a plan
|
and part vigilante streak
|
|
When I reel my irish in
|
when I sleep on the train
|
in straight lines through shadows you're there
|
where the future lies
|
under no moon at night
|
at the ballroom hanging you're there
|
|
You are there when I stop writing things down
|
and when I forget about who I am now
|
forget about who's kissing her who's behind my plow
|
now it's time to drown all of that poetry out
|
somehow where democracy
|
is how we all learn to sleep
|
with ourselves drawing to ourselves
|
everything we can carry
|
|
When I reel my irish in
|
when I sleep in the rain
|
in straight lines through shadows you're there
|
where the future lies
|
under no moon at night
|
at the ballroom hanging you're there
|
|
There's no escaping this dream
|
We're dancing with no distractions
|
|
When I reel my irish in
|
when I sleep on the plane
|
in straight lines through shadows you're there
|
where the future lies
|
under no moon at night
|
at a ballroom hanging you're there
|
you're everywhere
|
|
You're there
|
you're everywhere
|
You're there
|
you're everywhere
|
|
-----------------
|
You're Everywhere
|
| Tragically Hip |
