I can make six of one, or half of none
If I make this choice, I’ll expectedly way under-run
You paint me a picture, with a glimmer of hope.
But you're given a lecture, by a carelessly sad misanthrope.
You think that I’m trying
I think you’re a fool.
I think I’m dying
But I’m just wearing yesterday’s shoes
You gave me a horse, to ride out of town.
But there seems to be somebody out there, desperately hunting me down.
You think that I’m trying
I think you’re a fool.
I think I’m dying
But I’m just wearing yesterday’s shoes
You think that I’m trying
I think you’re a fool.
I think I’m dying
But I’m just wearing yesterday’s shoes
Lyrics by John Berry