I take a new job and I try to be good
I take it all on with a positive bent
I write what I can from whatever I learn
I make what I can from whatever I've spent
I meet some people and I make some friends
I skip some borders and I meet some ends
A bunch of ideas and a moderate spark
A propane flame in the suburban dark
The wasted feel at the end of the day
A flashlight scares an owl away
Every few years
I fight the devil
And I don't know what I'm doing
Don't think I ever did
Out of the shower with three minutes spare
Shaking in terror when I'm in the air
Thousands of dreams underneath in the streets
While the ghost of Jimmy Dean pa**es through me
I don't know what to do
I don't know what to say
I don't know what to say I do
I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
And my refuge flies on muted wings
Through the night, through the moon
with a deep blue tune that he sings
of redemption, potential and hope
and he flies through the snowstorms
He flies through the snowstorms