Pressed In A Book
Doted on like seeds planted in rows
The untied shoelaces of your life
Nutured all year then presssed in a book
Or displayed in bad taste at the table
Problems arise and you fan the fire
While there's a wild pack of dogs loose in your house tonight.
Cut from bad cloth or soiled like socks
Add it up and basically people never change.
They just talk and make plans in the dark
Or make haste with ideas that can't help
But creep good people out
As you talk to me too much you're assuming
We don't always want what's right.
Did I strike the right set of chords? You're annoyed.
The goal is to ignite you then move on.
You feel ill at ease. you got no squeeze.
And the wise cracks won't make you more stable.
You've learned you lines to scale and to time.
Why must I remind you now I'm only less able.
Cut from bad cloth or soiled like socks
We're ordinary people we can't help but to change
As we walk and make plans in the dark
Or make haste with the boy who can't help
But creep good people out.
As you talk to me too much you're assuming
We don't always want what's right.
Two fallen saplings in an open field.
Snow padding gently on an empty bench.
The untied shoelaces of your life
Nutured all year then presssed in a book
Or displayed in bad taste at the table
Problems arise and you fan the fire
While there's a wild pack of dogs loose in your house tonight.
Cut from bad cloth or soiled like socks
Add it up and basically people never change.
They just talk and make plans in the dark
Or make haste with ideas that can't help
But creep good people out
As you talk to me too much you're assuming
We don't always want what's right.
Did I strike the right set of chords? You're annoyed.
The goal is to ignite you then move on.
You feel ill at ease. you got no squeeze.
And the wise cracks won't make you more stable.
You've learned you lines to scale and to time.
Why must I remind you now I'm only less able.
Cut from bad cloth or soiled like socks
We're ordinary people we can't help but to change
As we walk and make plans in the dark
Or make haste with the boy who can't help
But creep good people out.
As you talk to me too much you're assuming
We don't always want what's right.
Two fallen saplings in an open field.
Snow padding gently on an empty bench.
Credits
Writer(s): James Russell Mercer
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.