Snippets from the mind of an American hero. Random observations about life, love, fishing, dementia, music, sports, and yodeling. General strangeness. Intellectual badassery.
Lock your lips on eastern time,
Bleed my heart, I’m leaving mine.
See my soul makes it home.
I’m high on wretched wine.
Spinning here alone.
I left you on the street,
With a face so long, that it touched your feet.
I am a leaver.
Is my time wasting well?
I am a leaver.
I haven’t landed since I fell
Roaming streets, I’ve never found.
Singing songs, without a sound.
Cannot shake you from the tree,
And sow you in the ground.
Keep you next to me.
You left me in defeat,
With a loss so great, that I can’t retreat.
I am a leaver,
Is my time wasting well?
I am a leaver,
I haven’t landed since I fell.
Treasures dropped in the sea.
Lovers leap, like you and me.
I am a sucker and a sin.
But baby, I believe, in no effigy.
I left you on the street,
With a face so long, that it touched your feet.
I am a leaver.
Is my time wasting well?
I am a leaver.
I haven’t landed since I fell.
I am a leaver,
I am a shaken, battered shell.
I am a leaver,
I am a liar, can’t you tell?
Can’t you tell?
Can’t you tell?
If the opening guitar riff doesn’t put a bustle into your hedgerow, then you might want to get that looked at. However, the upbeat guitar rift belies the dark underbelly of a breakup. (All great songs are about new love, or love gone bad, right?)
