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Done using my looper like a regular, linear recorder.
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You see the white in my beard and wonder if I’m wise
I see thirst for thought and knowledge deep down in your eyes.
But there ain’t a lot of nothing in nothing I’ve learned,
‘less yer lookin’ for advice on gettin’ cheated, kicked, and spurned.
And I can’t rightly tell ya ‘bout turning away from sin.
You see, even my hard lessons are still hardly sinking in.
You think ya know your every self through and through and through,
then you standing there a-asking “What the hell’d I just do?”
So I ain’t gonna bore you with where all I been.
I got up from bed this morning, and soon I’m going back again.
But it ain’t so bad knocking these bones around
this swirly pearl racing through space.
It’s my only chance, so I don’t get down,
though I still dream about her face.
If only one lesson I could give you, boy,
guess it’s hold on to your dollars and become self-employed.
I ain’t never had a pocket without the bottom torn free.
Yeah, this world has seen my money a whole lot more’n me.
So if you want good advice, just let out down the road.
Pester a fat possum, poke a horny toad.
Leave me to my cheer, wontcha leave me to my wine.
Leave yourself a chance to better use your time.
The thing about life, young gun, is no one’s keeping score.
There’s one to let you in and one more to throw you the out the door.
But it ain’t so bad knocking these bones around.
Complaining is a weak man’s choice.
The sun’s as high as the world is round,
and I still dream about her voice.
There’s nothing left for you ‘cept to leave me alone—
and I ain’t just by myself, my son, I’m alone to the bone.
I’m done within and played all out, and all that’s left is me.
So much for my wisdom. You can have it all for free.
Just write yer mama once in a while, and don’t crap where ya eat.
And when you’re tired, boy, go on and put on up your feet.
See, people have been people for a very long time.
Each one has an angle, and each one has some time.
If I could make sense of it, boy, you would hardly know.
Not that it’d matter much, each of us will go.
But it ain’t so bad knocking these bones around.
You can only do but so much.
Out of all the roads, and all the towns,
what I still dream of is her touch.
No, it ain’t so bad knocking these bones around
this swirly pearl racing through space.
It’s my only chance, so I don’t get down,
though I still dream about her face.
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