Stephen Bard - Too Weird for Words

Sitting on a stone
In a cellarful of fear
Collapsing in the lapse of luxury
My mind's dried up
From this week's tears
Draining out of me
You've got to make that living
Ain't that what they say?
Make that living
Lots of bills to pay
Gotta push your wares
Where no one cares
That you're so far away
From the thing that keeps you
Pushing every day
Too weird for words
Sometimes it's just
Too weird for words
Must be for the birds
Too weird for words
Wouldn't you know
My tongue has lost its taste
The sheep and cattle
Feasting 'round the clock
I cannot even fathom
How much food must go to waste
While poverty sits dying on the dock
Too weird for words
Sometimes it's just
Too weird for words
Must be for the birds
Too weird for words
You've got to make that living
Ain't that what they say?
Make that living
Lots of bills to pay
Gotta push your wares
Where no one cares
That you're so far away
From the thing that keeps you
Pushing every day
Too weird for words
Sometimes it's just
Too weird for words
Must be for the birds
Too weird for words
Sitting on a stone
In a cellarful of fear
Collapsing in the lapse of luxury

Written by:
Stephen Shefferman

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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