Tip Jar

I've been trying to make it look as if I'm not
Scared of lying, but this is what I've got
Nobody told me that's what it takes
But I won't hide, no I won't hide

I've been waiting for a simple way to fit in
Anticipating on whatever's happening
Passing trains faster than a plane
I don't ride, no I don't ride

Take me with you to our city of song
We'll fly like the wind to the place where we belong
Take the next step, we'll be the talk of the town
We've been there before
It can't bring us down anymore

We've been stalling but what else can you do
To keep from falling when the picture's bugging you
See the sunset, a giant fire fly
But I won't cry, no I won't cry

Is this heaven or just a sacred place
Where I can touch your sanctuary face
Who needs proof to recognize the artist’s loving mind
That never dies, it never dies

It takes a lot of time, we don't go far
Sitting in the back seat of this old car
It's always raining; sweet rain is pouring down on me

We make a lot of friends along the way
They come and they go every day
It's pretty cold, I saw some snow along the way

Next time I'll be going I'm sure I'm gonna bring her along
Next time I'll be going I don't want to sing my lonely song

These cloudy days can't get me down
If I can just walk a while in this part of town
You'd like this place, I miss your face, I wish I could see your smile

I sing my songs wherever I go
That’s what I need to do
Why I took this road, I don’t know
When it’s tearing me away from you

It takes a lot of time, we don't go far
Sitting in the back seat of this old car
It's always raining, sometimes these clouds are all that I can see

I wish we had a back porch
And a little sunshine
No real trouble on our minds
We’d drink a lot a beer or sip a bit of wine
And play every record we could find
 
Sitting on the back porch
Sounds like a dream with the
Dark clouds hanging in the sky
We dream together but we can’t change the weather
So I’m starting to wonder why
 
Doo doo

Our poor little back porch
Made out of wood
Standing in the snow and rain
Looks like a nightmare, maybe I should leave it there
Somewhere in the corner of my brain
 
Sitting in the cold
Waiting for the rain
There’s one thing that we won’t get
A genuine back porch, Sunday afternoon with the
Sounds and the smells and the sweat
 
Doo doo
 
A cool pair of boots
Won’t grow you any roots
We can’t even fool a blind man
But honey, what do we care? Let’s get another pair
And stumble on the only way we can
 
If we want to hear a cricket
We’ve got to buy a ticket
And fly to the Texas Hills
I’ll rock your chair, we’ll breathe in the air
Just live without the frills
 
Is it weird to sing when you hit the right string
But you know nobody’s buying
In our wet little land, flat little land
We just keep on trying