Proven Song

Old men run on gasoline from the stations of the past
And the things that they can teach you, son, I hope to God they'll ever last
The crow isn't afraid of the man that you put in the field where you plant your food
The mailman doesn't care if your mother died, or anything at all

It's a proven story, it's a spoken word
And it's a pretty girl that drives me mad
Well, they come and go they stay the same you may not see them past
But the things that they can teach you son I hope to God they'll ever last

There's a man with a switchblade knife in the street
And there's a man sowing seeds in the hot summer heat
They don't even know your name
They're always there it's all the same

It's a proven story, it's a spoken word
And it's a pretty girl that drives you mad
In the city place and the market place they'll always rip you off
Take a walk to the country side you might find what you've always sought

I may not know about a goddamn thing about you or anybody else
I'm not afraid of getting away with making judgments about yourself

It's a proven story, it's a spoken word
And it's this life we're living that's so absurd
I like to walk on vacant streets to clear my mind of everything that's crass
I like the wind, I like the rain I like to kick my own ass

It's a proven story it's a spoken word
And it's this life we're living that's so absurd