I may be wrong half the time
But what's the use in being right if I wake up the same each morning
Trees seem to say look at us, we're evergreen
It doesn't matter if you think we're blue or orange
Guess I've got it made, every day looks the same
But I saw a butterfly go by before me
Take the dog for a walk, donate all my extra socks
Maybe when I wake again it will be morning
I'll take the blame
Watch the windows move with rain until the city is a blur here from my table
The weather's good for kissing frogs looking for love
But I give up, maybe the kind I really want's not such a fable
Guess I've got it made, holding hands with the rail of the train taking me through falling water
And I can only hope that one day I might finally know
That I am more than the ghost of my mother's daughter
