The Show

I want to know you like I know myself

From the morning to the evening bell

I burned my fingers on the stove



I have problems letting go

Winter creeps in & settles on the bones

Just summer passes on tip-toes

I made a fire, cast a spell, crossed my heart and wish you well



Brothers told me that she's been asking of my whereabouts and when I go

She is wild as the garden thorn bush

So I do not touch her until I know how she grows

I lost the race; I'm waiting on the show



Punched the wind out from my sails long ago

Every action has a motive and a goal

I make a fist of auburn leaves and rub my hand upon my knee



So I ask myself now, alone

Should I follow you or be gone



Brothers told me that she's been asking of my whereabouts and when I go

She is wild as the garden thorn bush

So I do not touch her until I know how she grows

I lost the race; I'm waiting on the show



So I ask myself now, alone

Should I follow you or be gone



Brothers told me that she's been asking of my whereabouts and when I go

She is wild as the garden thorn bush

So I do not touch her until I know how she grows

I lost the race; I'm waiting on the show