A little bit of green, in the morning
A little bit of turf smoke, in my nose
And it opens up
Oh, it opens up
This old wound
The first sip of beer, in the sunshine
Takes me back, to an unfurnished room
With a whistle and a goatskin drum, cigarettes in the afternoon
And it opens up
Oh, it opens up
This old wound
This old wound
It opens up and I dive right in, swim around in pain and bliss
It opens up and swallows me whole, into the abyss
Just a little bit of spray, from the waterfall
Lands in my coffee, backs against the wall
Gentle laughter in the right way, rosy hue on a pale white cheek
And it opens up
Oh, it opens up
This old wound
This old wound
This old wound
This old wound
