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lyrics

Track

I passed up myself with the assumption
that I have hands.
Couldn’t touch down, couldn’t fall down,
all this ground has turned into me.

Every time i roll over...
Every time it comes...
Every time they lose track...

They lose track, I’m not sure where I’m at,
it doesn’t make sense.
But I’m never sure where i stand.
Sure i feel I’m in the way.

Every time they think I’m safe...
Every time I’m on track...
Every time it rolls...

On and on, square by square,
I keep bouncing the ball.
So it’s four and I’ve lost count,
But the conversation goes on.

credits

from Archive, released February 20, 2012
Recorded by The Sons of Amargosa
Lyrics/music: David Glen Camp

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The Sons of Amargosa Portland, Oregon

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