When a flower grows wild, it can always survive - wildflowers don't care where they grow.
Monday, March 28, 2011
If you think that a kiss is all in the lips, c'mon, you got it all wrong, man. And if you think that our dance was all in the hips...oh well, then you do the twist. If you think holding hands is all in the fingers...grab hold of the soul where the memory lingers. Take a tip and do yourself a little service, take a mountain turn it into a mole. Just by playing a different role. Ya, by playing a different role. The boat, yah, you know she's rockin' it, and the truth well, ya know there's no stoppin' it. So what, somebody left you in a rut? And wants to be the one who's in control? But the feeling that you're under can really make you wonder, how the hell can she be so cold? So now you've left, denying the truth and it's hitting in the wisdom in the back of your tooth. Ya need ta spit it out, in a telephone booth while ya call everyone that you know, and ask 'em..."Where do you think she goes?" Oh ya, whered' ya suppose she goes? So to you, the truth is still hidden, and the soul plays the role of a lost little kitten. But, you should know that the doctors weren't kiddin'. She's been singing it all along. But you were hearin' a different song.