couches in alleys
hey, jack, it's me. i don't mean to bother you, but something's been on my mind. at the end of this road that climbs the horizon will be reached in a matter of miles. and when the wheels cease to spin, the walls and the fences will grow higher than redwood trees. and i know your demise and i fear what will happen when the road fills to flow under me, flow under me.
oh, jack, you see: i felt like your mirror with the wind ripping through my hair. when the wheels ceased to spin and i cased my surroundings, i realize i hadn't gone anywhere. when the problems i left with couches in alleys that no one would ever claim. and the hardest part was sifting through the pieces of the rain-soaked and rotten remains when i got home, when i got home.
hey, jack, it's me. i don't mean to bother, but something's been on my mind. at the end of this room that climbs the horizon will be reached in a matter of miles.
hey, jack, it's me. i don't mean to bother you but something's been on my mind. hey, jack, it's me. i don't mean to bother, but something's been on my mind.