Damn it this rage
that pistol of pain.
Found poets frown
in all of my days.
But you could come around
tell me to walk your way.
Well I've been worrying
that you'll fall don't you fall from me.
Baby don't you see.
I've been worrying
that you'll find, there's no magic in my sleeve.
I've been wondering if you mind,
mind my memories.
Baby don't you see.
I've been wondering if you really know
I ain't six feet and four.
I've been worrying. I've been worrying.
I've been worrying. I've been worrying.
Well I've been promising cuz'
there are kings for sale,
beggars at your feet
baby don't you see.
I've been promising
there is nothing to fear
except the ordinary here.
