TAQOMA

Flown out from the window
Flown out from the green
A match to any ceiling
Voices from the flame
In the long run
In the long run
So long at pretending
I was once your boy
Ships out on the landing
Faces you’ll avoid
In the long run
In the long run
In the long run
In the long run
Everybody want to be some somebody
Don’t you want somebody for your own
Everybody want to be some somebody
Don’t you want somebody for your own
Down to the road, clover and gold
It’s your own hand to hold
Staring me down, swallowing sound
It’s your own hand to hold
Everybody want to be some somebody
Don’t you want somebody for your own
Down to the road, clover and gold
It’s your own hand to hold
Staring me down, swallowing sound
It’s your own hand to hold