| Lyrics |
I am looking for the holesthe holes in your jeansbecause I want to knoware they worn out in the seator are they worn out in the kneesthere are so many ways to wearwhat we've got before it's goneto make use of what is there
I don't wear anything I can't wipe my hands ondo your policies fit between the headlinesare they written in newsprint, are they distantmine are crossing an empty parking lotthey are a woman walking homeat nightalonethey are six string that singand wood that hums against my hipbonewe can't afford to do anyone harmbecause we owe them our liveseach breath is recycled from someone else's lungsare enemies are the very air in disguiseyou can talk a great philosophybut if you can't be kind to peopleevery dayit doesn't mean that much to meit's the little things you dothe little things you sayit's the love you give along the waywhen we patch things upthey say a job well donebut when we ask whywhere did the rips come fromthey say we are subversiveand extreme, of coursewe are just trying to track a problem to its sourcebecause we know we can't sit backand let people come to harmwe owe them our liveseach breath is recycled from someone else's lungsour enemies are the very airour enemies are the airwe are looking for the holesthe holes in your jeansbecause we want to knoware they worn out in the seator are they worn out in the knees
|