"Black, White Birch"
I’ve felt it, I’ve always felt some sort of
Death deep inside working to force it all to stop
And I knew it, I knew it;
Long before I had to hear it
One day we have to give up.
Well I guess that’s sad because the minor chords they say that it’s sad.
I guess it’s bad because of all the wasted nights that we had.
I guess that’s sad because the minor chords they say that it’s sad.
I guess it’s bad because of every burnt out day that we had.
And those words would come to be more permanent than our headstones.
I think if nothing else I’ve come to understand
That it’s not always where you’re headed,
But sometimes it’s where you land.
our own headstones
And I’m not sure if you’ve noticed this or not,
But our hands have grown much rougher
And our minds aren’t quite as sharp.
our own headstone
I am but a simple man
And I really don’t believe in all that much
So whether we prosper or we burn,
I will wait for the day, oh, I will wait so patiently, for the end.
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