For all this trying I've been losing perspective
Feel like staring up with you from the cold hood of your car
If it was deeper and the bottle less effective
I'd take you back to the places where you're not alone
For all my talk about a higher perception
I still think about you in the shower without a song
It seems to be that all my suffering's elected
Either I don't understand or it's a problem for everyone
Dead on the curb
Red in the face
Waiting up for God in the back alley of your place
Talk to me about it and tomorrow I'll forget again
Find someone to love until everything's okay
All this time and I don't have it perfected
From the window in your room, playing shortstop, I rattle on
Between the reasons, even moments, of contention
Where we fit in one drink, and talk about things I forget
With my head in the clouds
Wide open space
Waiting up for God in the back alley of your place
Talk to me about it and tomorrow I'll forget again
Dead on the curb
Red in the face
Oh, can you tell me everything's okay
Head in the clouds
Wide open space
Man, I pick it up slow
I'm not sure what's expected
Might be feeling just a little too free, honey
Don't know what I intended
Man, I pick it up slow (yeah come around, yeah come around)
I'm not sure what's expected
By the evening if it's light enough
Please (yeah come around, yeah come around)
Leave the song open ended
Wringing out this American dream
Over the white wings of England
Yeah come around, yeah come around
And finally talk about something you care about
Like a boxer pulling out (yeah come around, yeah come around)
We can finally talk about something you care about
(Yeah come around, yeah come around)
(Something you care about)