John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
John Gorka
I grew up beneath the trees
Not far from the refineries
Aimed at the sky like smoking guns
I learned to walk, I learned to run away
In tracing back our history
It's a wonder how we came to be
A love driven through a dozen states
With your technique for keeping me awake
The day we met is still a blur
Though I remember just how nice you were
And what you wore in Central Park
And how you left before the darkness fell
[Chorus]
(Now) I cry over these strings
This sentimental case of things
Though I'm better with each passing day
I guess you'll be the one that got away
'Cause everyone has one of those
You wear them like you wear your clothes
Except they don't come off at night They are the space you hold up to the light
And somewhere along the line
You'll turn into a friend of mine
Who knows of my unspoken cares
Amid the aftermath of love affairs
(Still...)
[Chorus]
Now I stand beneath these trees
Not far from the refineries
Aimed at the sky like a smoking gun
I'll learn to walk, I'll learn to run again