Sticks and Stones
She said don't you think it's funny, the things we remember
And the things we forget
Like people always talking 'bout the way the wind blows
Even though the wind is dead
Well I'd like to write my way from one thing to the other
Until the day that I die
But I'm an addict for a habit that'll dull the senses
Until the ink runs dry
So maybe we should get away, get away, get away
Find a place in Italy, Italy, Italy
Forget about the things we say, things we say
Remember where we're going, and remember it's the same
I'm taking 'bout old sticks and old stones
Turned to old dirt and old bones
But those old debts and old wars
Never seem to lay to rest
I'm taking 'bout old sticks and old stones
Turned to old dirt and old bones
But those old debts and old wars
Never seem to lay to rest
She said don't you think it's funny, the things we remember
And the things we forget
Like people always talking 'bout the way the wind blows
Even though the wind is dead
Well I'd like to write my way from one thing to another
Until the day that I die
But I'm an addict for a habit that'll dull the senses
Until the ink runs dry
Yeah those old debts and old wars
Never seem to lay to rest
And the things we forget
Like people always talking 'bout the way the wind blows
Even though the wind is dead
Well I'd like to write my way from one thing to the other
Until the day that I die
But I'm an addict for a habit that'll dull the senses
Until the ink runs dry
So maybe we should get away, get away, get away
Find a place in Italy, Italy, Italy
Forget about the things we say, things we say
Remember where we're going, and remember it's the same
I'm taking 'bout old sticks and old stones
Turned to old dirt and old bones
But those old debts and old wars
Never seem to lay to rest
I'm taking 'bout old sticks and old stones
Turned to old dirt and old bones
But those old debts and old wars
Never seem to lay to rest
She said don't you think it's funny, the things we remember
And the things we forget
Like people always talking 'bout the way the wind blows
Even though the wind is dead
Well I'd like to write my way from one thing to another
Until the day that I die
But I'm an addict for a habit that'll dull the senses
Until the ink runs dry
Yeah those old debts and old wars
Never seem to lay to rest
Credits
Writer(s): Eric Sorensen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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