Letra de Listening to Tpm

See yourself on blocks, in fighting form, everybody loves you now, they're glad you're home
Story time is battle scars, yellow lines are track marks, interspersed with loads of fun
It's a top of the rock, snow-capped, Hugh/Barry night
You think: "Every last little thing's gonna be alright."
Broken hearted month, stare at the sun, wonderin' when your hunter's moon is fit to soar
And your friends say you're like an omnivore, only you are imbibing the spirit of the mess you left before
It's a top-of-the-loft string of sweat-soaked summer nights. You think: "Every last little thing's gonna be alright."
And The Boss is always right: You're missing half the point of life
Standing on a darkened beach in Seaside Heights
Listening to TPM, about to cross the bridge, again
Playing catchup, where the pumps stay on all night
(Hey!)
Your arms are waving bye-bye as you swore
You'd go to hell before you dared go back for more
This will almost always be your life, so you have to take the low parts with the high
This is a day-after-day-is-the-same-day kind of night
You think: "Every last little thing's gonna be alright."
And your body's broke, but you're fumbling for the light, just thinking: "Everything and everything and everything and everything and everything and everything and everything and everything and every last little thing's gonna be alright."
See yourself on blocks, in fighting form, everybody loves you, now, glad you're home