Headsore Red House Painters
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I had thoughts today
That made me feel as if I may be growing
I had this urge to read and learn
Something new
But I hate books
And I hate reading
So what am I thinking?
I think the story has just gotten old
And I can't grow with it anymore
I can't grow
Waiting for your arrivals
Hiding from the light of morning
While I overhear his twisted intellect
Lying full-clothed on his deathbed
She said
"You're 22 and life is the same for you
As when you left here"
I thought of the one
Who died in his pride four years further than me
I'm going over the water now
And when I get across
I'm going to look back and think
Not tomorrow, not ever
That made me feel as if I may be growing
I had this urge to read and learn
Something new
But I hate books
And I hate reading
So what am I thinking?
I think the story has just gotten old
And I can't grow with it anymore
I can't grow
Waiting for your arrivals
Hiding from the light of morning
While I overhear his twisted intellect
Lying full-clothed on his deathbed
She said
"You're 22 and life is the same for you
As when you left here"
I thought of the one
Who died in his pride four years further than me
I'm going over the water now
And when I get across
I'm going to look back and think
Not tomorrow, not ever
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