Thinking of your private future You snatched at the trees And stole their dark green sleep Thinking of your private future You think of the river and set it flowing A late fog's lifting the first wind's rising So you turn to reflect on your grief knife Surgeon Smith
Thinking of your private future Cut by the scars of timeless coming back You realize the unreachable was nothing Cool winds wash down your hope and you slipped Cool winds wash down your hope and you slipped
God's good to the humble As the devil is to fools Stop looking back in anger Cause you can't change the rules Believe in where you're going But don't lose your yesterdays Too terrified to cry it's true Your life is just a game
So I need a million dollars To sit on mountain tops To see the stars surround you Is to see an awful lot I see the work of sinners I see the work of saints So I see the work of everyone That's ever ever played
Sleep without reason Your laughing much too loudly With so many scars How does it feel deep in your heart?
Cause when the cut is blown open It'll crack up your skin So now you're drowning your sorrows In whiskey and sin
Live the life you love Use a god you trust And don't take it all too seriously