Bald Tires

07 May 1999

I’m tired of love songs
One more packaged torn soul
I want nothing more nothing less than the whole

Through your stained glass eyes
You tell me you have nothing to hide
But I know better than that

And I look to the other side light
And I find myself hanging out tight
Hold up the roof and hold down the floor
Push out the windows and pull in the door

‘Cause it’s a hard day living this life
It’s a hard night when you’ve lost your sight
It’s a hard time losing it slow as you can

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