Clothesline

My granddad's putting cars in twine
But the patio cracked all those times
And those cars rolled heavy down the blood line
La-da-da
My grandma hung it on the line
But the clothes were dry, so I resigned
And they don't dry 'less you dry my eyes, so
La-da-da

Close your eyes, you're not alone
You're not alone as long as someone's home
I'll cross my heart and hope to die
Your eyes are in the yard so they can dry

Old black walnut and power lines are mixed in
But I'm on the boughs of the blue skies
They yell from the ground that I might die soon
La-da-da
Oh, old Sumter, are you in decline?
Yet still you stand as unmanned
As your light curls slowly across the coastline
I found

Close your eyes, you're not alone
You're not alone as long as someone's home
I'll cross my heart and hope to die
Your eyes are in the yard so they can dry

I'm not where I'm supposed to be
I'm not where I'm supposed to be
I am my own colony
My best foot in front of me
I'm not where I'm supposed to be
I'm not where I'm supposed to be
(But I'm still in Santa Fe)
I'm not where I'm supposed to be
I'm not where I'm supposed to be
I am my own colony
My best foot in front of me
I'm not where I'm supposed to be
I'm not where I'm supposed to be
(But I'm still in Santa Fe)