Fair To Midland - Tall Tales Taste Like Sour Grapes

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Too much patience, no resistance

Within the shouting distance

You can hear a blind man's bluff



Dragging names through the mind

And still biting his tongue

The devil's in the air and I'm spitting out prayers

While the ravenous all eat their fill



Tell me, tell me a story

Tell me not to worry or pick up the phone

So I'm turning, turning a deaf ear

So that I don't hear them throwing stone



Too much hog wart, not enough hearsay

Always made the front page

You could use a fine tooth comb



To get a word from the wise

Would be a welcome surprise

Keep an ear to the ground

So to drown out the sound

Of the failures that make me whole



Tell me, tell me a story

Tell me not to worry or pick up the phone

So I'm turning, turning a deaf ear

So that I don't hear them throwing stone



These walls don't talk

Even when somebody knocks

These walls don't stand

For anyone else but themselves

These walls don't fall

Even when gravity's failing us all



Tell me, tell me a story

Tell me not to worry or pick up the phone

So I'm turning, turning a deaf ear

So that I don't hear them throwing stone

© SPREADING LOVE WITH A BOXING GLOVE; WARNER-TAMERLANE PUBLISHING CORP;




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