Having a track record to live up to and the history of successes had become a hindrance. It becomes harder to break out of what people expect you to do.
Just slip out the back, Jack, make a new plan, Stan, you don’t need to be coy, Roy, just get yourself free. Hop on the bus, Gus, you don’t need to discuss much, just drop off the key, Lee, and get yourself free.
Maybe the heart is part of the mist. And that’s all that there is or could ever exist. Maybe and maybe and maybe some more. Maybe’s the exit that I’m looking for.
Take me. I’m an ordinary player in the key of C. And my will was broken by my pride and my vanity. Who’s gonna love you when you’re looks are gone? God will. Like he waters the flowers on your window sill.
