Poorly - you're more than poorly Jimmy,
More than that, worse than that,
This is a case of photographs,
Smudged and dropped and laughed at,
Here's some things that came in post,
Letters never sent but wrote,
Shelves of books not opened,
Browsed in and bored, you unlocked things
That should have been fastened down.
To be burned, to be burned Jimmy, to be gone forever,
So, you're down town raking bins,
Through carry-outs and skins,
To find the hundred things that led you here.
So, you're down town raking bins,
Through carry-outs and skins,
To find the hundred things that led you here.
Long night walking hills,
Scratched and cut and bruised and hurt,
With all your tension and your guilt,
Stories of the berr and care and speed you spilled,
Pleased at your speaking and worried by the content,
About this love and this land and this firmament,
Forgotten how to dream, started just to scream,
Forgotten to return, to return jimmy, to fight your way back,
So, you're down town raking bins,
Through carry-outs and skins,
To find the hundred things that led you here.
So, you're down town raking bins,
Through carry-outs and skins,
To find the hundred things that led you here.
Tired, well I'm tired too Jimmy,
More than that, I'm angry at that.
Well now that I'm finished,
This small town world seems so moch bigger,
Between jobs and flags and parliaments,
But our small time world seems bigger,
And maybe more worth fighting for,
Maybe at the heart of things,
They'll be clowns and we'll be kings,
So, you're down town raking bins,
Through carry-outs and skins,
To find the hundred things that led you here.
So, you're down town raking bins,
Through carry-outs and skins,
To find the hundred things that led you here.
Down town raking bins,
Just to find the hundred things,
Down town raking bins,
Just to find the hundred things.
Words and Music - Ricky Ross