I have this problem where I’m already measuring how you’ll react Before I even finish what I was gonna say I dance around my thoughts like they’re a fire And if I order my steps In just the right sequence I could make it rain And it isn’t a joke, or some poem I wrote It’s the shadow tracing back to every word I have spoke Burn brighter If you can’t fix the house that you were born into Well, put a match to work and see what fire can do Cut cleaner If the hanging fray causes you to cling to the old Ways and means and methods then the knife was too dull And so the lesson becomes How you fix a problem Can yield a grimmer consequence than what you kept from I have found this I have found this A full measure shaken down, spilled over Was the cup I had drawn Took me one little tumble and the thing was half gone Half full is a fool’s assessment when the ledger is red And the deficit is only ever making ahead And though a slow motion spill Looks real cool in a film In either case the result is typically a mess I have found this My soul held a measure and the ledger was null My feet found a dry place to count in the cold It’s all coming due now I felt my sorrow pulling in on the fabric of days All of time bunched up, converging like a Senator’s blade And my mind raced over all of everything that happened then But it halted at the thought of things about to begin Cause my heart held a ledger and my credits were full When my feet set to walking out all too alone My heart held a ledger and my credits were full When my feet found a soap box to stand in the cold Now about how one goes on one’s own Saying hey babe, this place ain’t so cold Well don’t you know there’s only one of ya You just might end up with pneumonia And about how one might slow one’s roll To an amount down to faking control Well I guess that would depend on it The kind of time you want to spend on it Stand-offing often pays off, but I am pondering Well, might be stepping down wasn’t really so low When my feet found a soapbox to stand in the cold And my lungs were full Praise be to the Father forever Who can take a dead thing and make it green Only ever restoring My soul held a ledger and he paid it in full When my root was a dead snag left in the cold Then the drums kicked in And I was spilling out some feverish thing But the amps were cranked up so loud Well, I didn’t think you’d hear How about them something or others I had seemed to say Well maybe listen closer And I’ll try to sing clear My tongue held a ledger and my credits were full When my feet found a soapbox to stand in the cold My tongue held a ledger and my credits were full Consequences of grandstanding out in the cold Now about how one goes on one’s own Saying hey babe, this place ain’t so cold Well don’t you know there’s only one of ya You just might end up with pneumonia And about how one might slow one’s roll To an amount down to faking control Well I guess that would depend on it The kind of time you want to spend on it And when it comes to gallows humor it’s a slippery slope You see you never ask a hangman to show you the ropes I know you meant it as a “ha ha ha” You just might end up with a twiney collar Now about how one goes on one’s own Saying hey babe, this place ain’t so cold Well don’t you know there’s only one of ya You’ll only end up with pneumonia
I have this problem where
I’m already measuring how you’ll react
Before I even finish what I was gonna say
I dance around my thoughts like they’re a fire
And if I order my steps
In just the right sequence I could make it rain
And it isn’t a joke, or some poem I wrote
It’s the shadow tracing back to every word I have spoke
Burn brighter
If you can’t fix the house that you were born into
Well, put a match to work and see what fire can do
Cut cleaner
If the hanging fray causes you to cling to the old
Ways and means and methods then the knife was too dull
And so the lesson becomes
How you fix a problem
Can yield a grimmer consequence than what you kept from
I have found this I have found this
A full measure shaken down, spilled over
Was the cup I had drawn
Took me one little tumble and the thing was half gone
Half full is a fool’s assessment when the ledger is red
And the deficit is only ever making ahead
And though a slow motion spill
Looks real cool in a film
In either case the result is typically a mess
I have found this
My soul held a measure and the ledger was null
My feet found a dry place to count in the cold
It’s all coming due now
I felt my sorrow pulling in on the fabric of days
All of time bunched up, converging like a Senator’s blade
And my mind raced over all of everything that happened then
But it halted at the thought of things about to begin
Cause my heart held a ledger and my credits were full
When my feet set to walking out all too alone
My heart held a ledger and my credits were full
When my feet found a soap box to stand in the cold
Now about how one goes on one’s own
Saying hey babe, this place ain’t so cold
Well don’t you know there’s only one of ya
You just might end up with pneumonia
And about how one might slow one’s roll
To an amount down to faking control
Well I guess that would depend on it
The kind of time you want to spend on it
Stand-offing often pays off, but I am pondering
Well, might be stepping down wasn’t really so low
When my feet found a soapbox to stand in the cold
And my lungs were full
Praise be to the Father forever
Who can take a dead thing and make it green
Only ever restoring
My soul held a ledger and he paid it in full
When my root was a dead snag left in the cold
Then the drums kicked in
And I was spilling out some feverish thing
But the amps were cranked up so loud
Well, I didn’t think you’d hear
How about them something or others I had seemed to say
Well maybe listen closer
And I’ll try to sing clear
My tongue held a ledger and my credits were full
When my feet found a soapbox to stand in the cold
My tongue held a ledger and my credits were full
Consequences of grandstanding out in the cold
Now about how one goes on one’s own
Saying hey babe, this place ain’t so cold
Well don’t you know there’s only one of ya
You just might end up with pneumonia
And about how one might slow one’s roll
To an amount down to faking control
Well I guess that would depend on it
The kind of time you want to spend on it
And when it comes to gallows humor it’s a slippery slope
You see you never ask a hangman to show you the ropes
I know you meant it as a “ha ha ha”
You just might end up with a twiney collar
Now about how one goes on one’s own
Saying hey babe, this place ain’t so cold
Well don’t you know there’s only one of ya
You’ll only end up with pneumonia