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Express

from The Weatherman by Chris Lambert

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lyrics

This is the address that I write to when I'm not sure what I might do
If I don't release my thoughts
But then I sit here and I scribble, and exaggerate a little
Well, quite honestly, a lot

Can't express myself
I can't express myself right...

This is the place where I would go to when I felt like I was going to
Smash my head against a rock
But then I'd sit here and I'd wonder if I had a face like thunder
Well, quite frankly, I do not

Can't express myself
I can't express myself, right...

This is the park in Ringing Holler where my mother met my father
In the town where I was born
And I might be a little taller, I've been adequately watered
There's the calm, and here's the storm:

Farmers know their field of corn
Nurses know each baby born
Goldsmiths know their bracelets gold

I don't know which way to go

credits

from The Weatherman, released August 28, 2012

license

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about

Chris Lambert Orcutt, California

It's weird how you heard about me.

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