Wouldn't it be good
I got it bad.
You don't know how bad I got it.
You got it easy.
You don't know when you got it good.
It's getting harder,
Just keeping life and soul together.
I'm sick of fighting
Even though I know I should.
The cold is biting
Through each and every nerve and fibre.
My broken spirit is frozen to the core.
I don't want to be here no more.
Wouldn't it be good to be in your shoes?
Even if it was for just one day.
And wouldn't it be good if we could wish ourselves away?
Wouldn't it be good to be on your side?
The grass is always greener over there.
Wouldn't it be good if we could live without a care?
You must be joking,
You don't know a thing about it.
You've got no problems.
I'd stay right there if I were you.
I got it harder.
You couldn't dream how hard I got it.
Stay out of my shoes
If you know what's good for you.
The heat is stifling,
Burning me up from the inside.
The sweat is coming through each and every pore.
I don't want to be here no more.
I don't want to be here no more.
I don't want to be here no more.
Wouldn't it be good to be in your shoes?
Even if it was for just one day.
And wouldn't it be good if we could wish ourselves away?
Wouldn't it be good to be on your side?
The grass is always greener over there.
Wouldn't it be good if we could live without a care?
I got it bad.
You don't know how bad I got it.
You got it easy.
You don't know when you got it good.
It's getting harder,
Just keeping life and soul together.
I'm sick of fighting
Even though I know I should.
The Riddle
I got two strong arms
blessings of babylon
with time to carry on
and try
for sins and alarms
so to america the brave
wise men save
Near a tree by a river
there's a hole in the ground
where an old man of aran
goes around and around
and his mind is a beacon
in the veil of the night
for a strange kind of fashion
there's a wrong and a right
but he'll never, never fight over you
I got plans for us
nights in the scullery
and days instead of me
i only know what to discuss
of for anything but light
wise men fighting over you
It's not me you see
pieces of valentine
with just a song of mine
to keep from burning history
seasons of gasoline and gold
wise men fold
Near a tree by a river
there's a hole in the ground
where an old man of aran
goes around and around
and his mind is a beacon
in the veil of the night
for a strange kind of fashion
there's a wrong and a right
but he'll never, never fight over you
I got time to kill
sly looks in corridors
without a plan of yours
a blackbird sings on bluebird hill
thanks to the calling of the wild
wise mens child
Near a tree by a river
there's a hole in the ground
where an old man of aran
goes around and around
and his mind is a beacon
in the veil of the night
for a strange kind of fashion
there's a wrong and a right
but he'll never, never fight over you