buffalo river home |
|
I've been taking off and landing but this airport's closed |
And how much thicker this fog is gonna get god only knows |
Just when you think that you've got a grip |
Reality sneaks off it gives you the slip |
As if you ever knew what it was taking you down the line |
|
CHORUS: |
Tearing through the cottonfields and bus shelters |
of the south running helter skelter |
down through the mississippI delta |
with no place to call your own |
mixing up drinks with mixed feelings |
all along the paint was peeling |
down to an indian blanket on a pony |
with no rider in the flesh and bone |
looking for his buffalo river home |
|
I've been circling the wagons down at times square |
Trying to fI'll up this hole in my soul but nothing fits there |
Hust when you think you can let it rip |
you're pounding the pavement in your daddy's wingtips |
as if you had some place better to go |
or a better way to get there |
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REPEAT CHORUS: |
|
Now there's only two things in life but I forget what they are |
it seems we're either hanging on a moonbeams coat tails |
or wishing on stars |
just when you think that you've been gyped |
the bearded lady comes and does a double back flip |
and you run off and join the circus |
yeah, you just let that pony ride |