The Sound of Young America

This flower is on two ice cubes
And wood backbone and 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
I’m letting go of everything I’ve ever known
I’m low, I worship the sun or the docks and bloom, bloom, bloom
This summer’s been thick and dry
The same as the sleep in my eye
Too much of anything
Is never a good thing
I caught a smile like Halloween
It’s just smoke and mirrors
I doubt you can stand for this
I’m not sure of anything
And I don’t feel a thing
I’m letting go of everything I’ve ever known
I’m low, I worship the sun or the docks and bloom, bloom
I’m letting go, letting go, letting go
I’m letting go of everything i’ve ever known
I know, I worship the sun or the docks and bloom, bloom