Orijinal sözler
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The more I hurt,
The less I feel,
The more I know,
The less I rest in this...
Lone star state of mine.
The more I hurt,
The less I feel,
The more I know,
The less I rest in this...
Lone star state of mine.
Say it straight,
Don't bend my ear,
When I'm walking in an evening air,
You two-step into my idle home,
And tearing my song all up with minor chords now.
The more I solve,
The less I work,
That can't be good for some boy out of love,
Out of touch, out of lust, out of soul,
n'Out of song.
