From the recording 1915

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Written and recorded in the big shed

Lyrics

Purpose gets lost on its own
You think you’re wrong but you don’t know the truth
Keep counting paces while the frustration gets in your bones

The words get under your skin
You stop before you begin; it’s a shame
Imagination is a painstaking place to be in
And do what you want

‘Cause all the words you stole
Can’t make it whole
And all this time you’ve spent
Skidding into the wall

So take the reins and throw them away
And tell yourself it don’t mean a thing
It’s such a waste to know every missed line by name

And all the words you stole
Can’t make it whole
And all this time you’ve spent
Skidding into the wall

You can’t battle the memories
And it makes you numb
You can’t bottle the energy
Where it’s coming from
And all this time I thought you’d come home