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I’ve got six books of numbers and no one to call
I drift through the tresses of worry and all
The pieces are there but the picture’s not right
I refuse to ever get used to being the quiet type

I walk through the silence of my dirty name
Millions are screaming, they all sound the same
I’ll turn myself in, it’s not worth this fight
It’s not worth doing anything at all if I can’t hit it right

Don’t try to tell me I’m holding you down
‘Cause it ain’t so easy when you come around

There ain’t nothing that could ever be said
The loneliness pounds like a drum in my head
Prop me up at the gates of hell – I won’t make a fist
At such vicious range, it’s hard not to miss


Take back the memory; I’ll take back my plea
Take back each torch you carried for me
What else to say? The best years of our lives
I’d admit that I’m weak, but not at your price


from Into the Heart of the Sea, released January 20, 2012
Will Ayers – drums



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Allan Douglas Nashville, Tennessee

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