There’s no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard / No song that I could sing but I can try for your heart / Our dreams and they are made out of real things / Like a shoebox of photographs with sepia-toned loving
Baixar Mais Tocadas: Jack Johnson clipes
Brushfire fairytales / Itsy-bitsy diamond wells / Big fat hurricanes / Yellow-bellied given names
I gotta get home, there’s a garden to tend / All the fruits on the ground / And the birds have all moved back into my attic whistled in static / Young learn to fly I will patch up the holes once again
there’s traffic in the sky / and it doesn’t seem to be getting much better / there’s kids playing games on the pavement / drawing waves on the pavement, hm-hm
Look at all those fancy clothes / But these could keep us warm just like those / And what about your soul, is it cold? / Is it straight from the mold and ready to be sold?
There’s a black hole pulling me in / I slowly bend till I see the back of my own sins / I stole my soul from myself now I wonder / Wonder, is there somebody with a perfect plan
Well I was sitting, waiting, wishing / You believed in superstitions / Then maybe you’d see the signs / But Lord knows that this world is cruel
Who’s to say, he’s not the gifted one / Well I forgot, he’s not the teachers son / No he’s just the reason for her to say / That she needs a substance in her today
I come home in the morning light / My mother says when you gonna live your life right / Oh mother dear we’re not the fortunate ones / And girls they wanna have fun
I know you may not want to see me / On your way down from the clouds / Would you hear me if I told you / That my heart is with you now