It was the third of July on a cool cloudy sky
|
I set in for a storm in the makin'
|
I relaxed as I sat up in our three room flat
|
while my wife was in the kitchen bakin'
|
Thoughts passed through my mind of no special kind
|
Like faces that look like the others
|
Tomorrow they say is Independence day
|
and I guess I'll go eat at my brother's
|
|
I believe that a thought has just gotten caught
|
In a place where words can't surround it
|
It concerns the years past and the shadows they cast
|
And my path as I walk around it.
|
|
It was the third of July on a cool cloudy sky
|
I set in for a storm in the makin'
|
I relaxed as I sat up in our three room flat
|
While my wife was in the kitchen bakin'
|
Thoughts passed through my mind of no special kind
|
Like faces that look like the others
|
Tomorrow they say is Independence day
|
and I guess I'll go eat at my brother's
|
|
-----------------
|
Third Of July
|
| John Prine |
