The Sound of Young America

This flower lives on two ice cubes

A wood backbone, a window view

Too much of anything

Is never a good thing

Only blooms for what it loves

I am what I am, just not what I was

Not sure of anything

And I don't feel a thing

(Chorus)

I'm letting go of everything I've ever known

I worship this unorthodox in bloom

The summer's been thick and dry

The same as the sleep in my eye

Too much of anything

Is never a good thing

A carved smile like Halloween

It's just smoke and mirrors

A dead tree can stand for years

I'm not sure of anything

And I don't feel a thing

(Chorus)

I'm letting go, letting go, letting go

(Chorus)