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Description
My brother thinks I have attention deficit disorder and I think he's right. Subsequent to our conversation about it, I had a particularly down moment and, armed with my new insight, I wrote this.
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Lyrics
Working everyday is just what I do
No one thing I do stands on its own
React to every crisis that I bring on
Till the whistle blows and I head home
See the lady there who keeps my head on
Straight so she can make this little life work
Wondering how long it takes till I see
All the gifts God’s planted in this Jerk
Can’t fight my way out of a paper bag
I can’t see the forest for the trees
Few things I’ve accomplished I imagine
I’ve done so I can keep her here with me
I wonder if she sees me for what I am
no vision no risk kind of guy
No cause inspire’s me to fight the fight
There’ s no philosophy I can’t deny
Call it lack of faith
Call it lack of will
Call it reason’s death by it’s own hand
Born of dust we live, struggle, doomed to die
Tell me what’s the point of such a plan?
She’s the thing in life that gives me sustenance
Not some egomaniac spirit flown
I’d do anything she wants to make us grow
Just wish I could think of it on my own
Can’t fight my way out of a paper bag
I can’t see the forest for the trees
Few things I’ve accomplished I know damn well
I’ve done so I can keep her here with me
No one thing I do stands on its own
React to every crisis that I bring on
Till the whistle blows and I head home
See the lady there who keeps my head on
Straight so she can make this little life work
Wondering how long it takes till I see
All the gifts God’s planted in this Jerk
Can’t fight my way out of a paper bag
I can’t see the forest for the trees
Few things I’ve accomplished I imagine
I’ve done so I can keep her here with me
I wonder if she sees me for what I am
no vision no risk kind of guy
No cause inspire’s me to fight the fight
There’ s no philosophy I can’t deny
Call it lack of faith
Call it lack of will
Call it reason’s death by it’s own hand
Born of dust we live, struggle, doomed to die
Tell me what’s the point of such a plan?
She’s the thing in life that gives me sustenance
Not some egomaniac spirit flown
I’d do anything she wants to make us grow
Just wish I could think of it on my own
Can’t fight my way out of a paper bag
I can’t see the forest for the trees
Few things I’ve accomplished I know damn well
I’ve done so I can keep her here with me









































rtcooper
Fine Vocals on a Tough Topic.
I hope the feelings, here, are episodic as they seem out of the main for you. A rather Harsh picture, but you got a song out of it.
With best personal regards,
Coop