You're a little bit of water. A little bit of blood. A little bit of reason. And a little bit of luck. You're a little bit of fever. A little bit of love. A little bit of falling. And a lot of getting up.
You're just another drunk in just another dive bar. Saying cheer as last times stay in close as last night.
You're just another waitress stretching every paycheck. Behind on her statements for education payments.
You're just another traveller, you think you've got character because you've been to India or Africa to study the vernaculars.
A lonely man, who got the bony hands. Picking up the soda cans to pay his wage.
You`re a little bit of water, A little bit of blood. A little bit of reason, A little bit of luck. Just a little bit of fever, And a little bit of love. A little bit of falling And lot of getting up.
You're just another actress with just another agent. Selling drugs to pay rent and pawning off your bracelets.
Just another overweight Living on left over take away. Addicted to thick-shakes, ignoring the headaches.
A Bob Dylan want-to-be, sitting in economy. Pouring over poems like they're tickets to the lottery.
An unlucky citizen, to watch the house he's living in filling with water again.
You`re a little bit of water, A little bit of blood. A little bit of reason, And a little bit of luck. Just a little bit of fever, And a little bit of love. A little bit of falling And lot of getting up.
You're just another bride on the best day of her life a skydiver on his ninth flight relaxing for the first time.
Just another dancer dressed up in the Funk. You're resting in the build ups and waiting for the drums.
You're just another father who just met his new grandson. Sitting next to grandma looking at the new mom.
You're just another activist you're working for the peace core. Another first kiss from the boy you got the thing for.
You're a little bit of water. A little bit of blood. A little bit of reason. And little bit of luck. Just a little bit of fever. And a little bit of love. A little bit of falling...
Well, my daddy left home when I was three He didn't leave much to mama and me Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze I don't blame him cause he run and hid But the meanest thing that he ever did Was before he left, he went and named me Sue... Sue... Sue...
You're just another version of every other person. You could have been a surgeon. You could have been a nun.
I'm just another hipster with long hair and whiskers, and these pants that don't fit. Sat staring at the sun
Well non of us are any more the wiser than any other kind of person living next to where the other assholes run.
So I'm just gonna write and sing play and love my friends, and drink 'cause I don't have a clue to when the end is gonna come.