The Years

Picture me rolling pastor
When you come stumbling after mine all mine
To put your paws on my old birthday cards and my emeralds
To marry me to the mud or to the sky
You can find me on that cold black bus
Heading up north toward the shitty ol' ugly ol' dirty ol' sea
Sitting next to a girl I might even think was kind of pretty
If I knew her long enough
And she might think the same of me
But I fell asleep dreaming through a gang sign in the glass
Thinking about all the ones I’ve seen with no clothes on
Their faces turn to the faces of my runners fore
Their bodies are thorns on a rose
And the years are statues of pioneers
Once they have dried inside our minds
They’re gong to crumble down our spines
But you can knock the dick off David
And he’s still a friend of mine
So I went swimming through the sewage and the silver
With a heart like a wall like a great big wall
They pointed their fingers and said «Go north to Bethlehem»
Turns out that I was there all along
Just swinging my fist and singing this song
«I remember Carolina, I remember Tennessee»
I remember jumping from trees to shrubs
Pissing off all the flowers and bugs
We weren’t winning but we sure could pretend to be
And you can knock the dick off David
But he’s still a friend to me
And the years are statues of pioneers
Once they have dried inside our minds
They’re gong to crumble down our spines
But you can knock the dick off David
And he’s still a friend of mine
Through the years (yeah they’ve been good to me)
The years (throughout my life throughout)
The years (some gold some wood to me)
The years (that I’m going to leave behind)