I don't feel well, it's this old damned cold
it won't leave me alone, let me be
But it's not just that it's everything
Gotta force myself, gotta force myself to sleep
Write it down, write it down, write it down
Tell it in a story of the pioneers
Not the hunters lookin' for their souvenirs.
Sing me something, make it sound so sweet
Tell the whole wide world, make them all believe
Don't you believe we're spinning right now
You speak, I hear, we learn somehow
Lines divide, oceans are wide, we come and we go
On a painted road, miles behind.
Ain't no particular end to this story
In no particular way was it told
No preconceived moments of glory
It just came as it came
Whereabouts unknown ...
Autor(es): Reed Foehl