Over the tracks,
with a sack full of matches,
I'm gonna burn all the letters I've wrote.
Don't worry, darling,
I ain't brave enough to catch it,
this fire that's licking my hopes.
Besides, if I went up
like a soaked rolling paper,
I'd still be fast-burning-out.
And what's the use of a good, strong noose
when your problem's too much hanging around?
So I walked back crashing,
my pockets full of ash in
the latesummer moon's holy glow.
that loved me to death on the banks
of every river,
where every breath in brought me home.
'Cause if home's where hearts is
beating like a bird's wing,
then I've many homes and I should:
said a man who wasn't homeless,
"I'm always just traveling/
taking walks around my neighborhood."
Wisdom: it comes
but age don't unlock it.
You've got to spend all the passion you've found.
With more change in their heads
than in all of their pockets,
some can show you the way to slow down.
Sometimes we all need to slow down.