Some day, ill toss all your presents,
and bury, the letters left unsent,
cause its bad to do whats easy,
just cause its easy and i,
wanna do what pleases me but i cant
and the rode she'd rode, around the side of the mountain, with nowhere to go
but the heart we'd known, when its leaning and its creeping toward being alone
some day, ill find the mind to mend it,
and make dry, these eyes have gotten wet,
cause its bad to do whats easy, just cause ts easy, and i wanna do what pleases me but i cant, oh no no
and the crow he'd know, in the grass and no, with nowhere to go
but the heart we'd know, when its loving its leaving towards being alone
and the oats we sow, they can seed on forever, with nowhere to grow
but the heart we'd know, when its asking its exact way to go to not be alone
