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I think these walls have a message or have changed |
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Which it is I can't decide. |
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So I leave with the writer that remains |
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And let him tell me what his better days were like. |
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And I sit with the memory of kings |
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With only words to criticize |
|
As if I finally found the antidote for pain |
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Without knowing what that's really like. |
|
And our actor ends his love song |
|
And all these lovers sit and stare. |
|
If I don't find peace in the valley |
|
It's cause there wasn't any there. |
|
I will move somewhere the ocean's never seen. |
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Somewhere weeds just make their claim |
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Where my best friends exist only on screen |
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Where my love all fits in frame |
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But I want fire tumbling out into the night |
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I want you to know why you hold me close |
|
Pull the quarter from my ear, or say you tried |
|
I need magic or the holy ghost. |
|
And as I drive on through these canyons |
|
I'm still feeling like a crook |
|
If I don't find peace in the valley |
|
I've got no place else to look. |
