Stories Unborn

The grass was so green and the trees grew, you seen 'em
The boys and the girls, the choices were yours
The voice of the world, it was singing
Riding your bike through the orchard at night
The stars overhead spelled a word that you read
But you did not know its meaning

You couldn't slow down 'cause behind you the sound
Of your old state of mind of the troublesome kind
Was catching up to you and screaming

You're always thinking bout the stories unborn
You're always thinking 'bout a blues chord
And if you wanted you could be gone but you stay

You're always thinking bout the stories unborn
You're always thinking 'bout a blues chord
And if you wanted you could be gone but you stay

Losing one shoe is lamer than losing two
Man is not truly one, he is truly two