“(there’s no hope, i’m back to smoking dope) writing love songs again”
i tried transcendental meditation
every morning as the sun
came up over new york city
i visualized what i could become
quit living on my telephone
i read from homer down through sartre
thought i’d found a greater purpose
for my sentimental heart
but since i saw the way
your dress would hang off of your skin
there’s no hope
i’m back to smoking dope
and writing love songs again
now when i was young and hungry
i had all sorts of rowdy friends
we’d stay out late nights drinking
till the sun came up again
my eyes got shot all full of blood
i grew gravel in my lungs
brought a few good women down
with my forked and wicked tongue
but since i saw the way
that you make beauty out of sin
there’s no hope
i’m back to smoking dope
and writing love songs again
sometimes at night when the moon ain’t too wide
i think i should settle down
lay off of the wine like some of the time
man quit my running around
but since you walked into my life
you know everything’s gone wrong
it’s guitars, yoga mats, and psychedelic music
the only thing that keeps me hanging on
‘cause since your eyes opened up wide
and began to let me in
there’s no hope
i’m back to smoking dope
and writing love songs again
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