This life of mine that I'm perpetually up-ending
In search of messiness or cleanliness depending
On what surrounds me at the time
I'll lay your loving on the line
Found in our crumbling clay
Such shallow roots to pull away
This grey parade of groups you find yourself attending
In search of some brigade that you would die defending
You meet them now on Thursday nights
Keep up the singing babe, alright
And should you come and go
I guess I wouldn't need to know
So now you stay home
When the band comes through
Who could they hold a candle to?
Some might say I abandoned you
For what? For what?
To wander through this life
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
