You're All Just Pissin In The Wind
In the words of the ever saddest optimistic Neil Young.
When watching the pictures of Sao Paulo turns dark in the middle of the day as result of the burning trees of Amazonas turning into a hellish ground for its tenants.
Listening to Neil's tender voice that reminds me how all feelings are intervened onto each other.Tendernes and grieve, optimism and melancholy.
I have no idea how one writes this way, or creates the perfect melody to make the words float on its waters in a wavy rate as it is in this transformative song. I can only say that this song softens my heart by empowering its right to ache.
Have a loving weekend,
Be nice to which surrounds you.
Back in the old folky days The air was magic when we played The riverboat was rockin' In the rain Midnight was the time For the raid
Oh, Isabella, proud Isabella They tore you down and Plowed you under You're only real With your make-up on How could I see you And stay too long?
All along the Navajo Trail Burn-outs stub their toes On garbage pails Waitresses are cryin' In the rain Will their boyfriends Pass this way again?
Old Mother Goose She's on the skids The shoe ain't happy Neither are the kids She needs someone That she can scream at And I'm such a heel For makin' her feel so bad
I guess I'll call it Sickness gone It's hard to say The meaning of this song An ambulance can only Go so fast It's easy to get buried In the past When you try to make A good thing last
I saw today In the entertainment section There's room at the top For private detection To Mom and Dad This just doesn't matter But it's either that Or pay off the kidnapper
So all you critics sit alone You're no better than me For what you've shown With your stomach pump and Your hook and ladder dreams We could get together For some scenes
I never knew a man Could tell so many lies He had a different story For every set of eyes How can he remember Who he's talkin' to? 'Cause I know it ain't me And I hope it isn't you
Well, I'm up in T.O Keepin' jive alive And out on the corner It's half past five But the subways are empty And so are the cafes
Except for the Farmer's Market And I still can hear him sayin' You're all just pissin' In the wind You don't know it but you are
And there ain't nothin' Like a friend Who can tell you You're just pissin' In the wind
I never knew a man Could tell so many lies He had a different story For every set of eyes How can he remember Who he's talkin' to? Cause I know it ain't me And hope it isn't you