PĂĄgina inicial > Folk > K > Kimya Dawson > Same Shit/complicated

Same Shit/complicated

Kimya Dawson


You were looking down at them
They were looking down at you
You were starched and pressed
They were all disheveled
They were holding hands
They were ragamuffins and they said
"I know we're not fancy
But we're on the same level
We've got plans, big plans!
We're gonna change the world
All you care about is dollars
That doesn't make sense
All you do is hit snooze
Watch the news, buy shoes, drink booze
Make money feel spent and
Day after day after day, it's the same shit
Day after day after day, it's the same shit
Day after day after day, it's the same shit
Day after day after day after day after day. "

Then you look at them without
Batting an eye and say
"hey little hippie, let your freak flag fly
Why don't you go smoke a bowl
In your best tie-dye?
Get a tattoo of a dancing
Bear holding a peace sign
You can talk the talk
But when it comes to real change
Are you and all your little friends
Exactly the same?
You sit around in potlucks
Pointing fingers, placing blame
Drinking kombucha and eating tempeh and
Day after day after day, it's the same shit
Day after day after day, it's the same shit
Day after day after day, it's the same shit
Day after day after day after day after day. "
If you are judging them
While they are judging you
And you think that makes them assholes
Maybe you're an asshole too
Do we argue with each other
Until we both turn blue or
Find similarities in what we like
And what we do?
Yeah, just because someone
Does not look like me
Doesn't mean they are a clone or a sheep
Maybe they like their job
And they're living their dream
And they love their friends
And their family
Yeah, some people thrive
Between nine and five
And feel like they're choking
If their neck's not tied
And some people feel
As if they're gonna die if
Their seams aren't straight
And their shoes not tied
Some people like business
Some people like numbers
Some people grow organic heirloom cucumbers
And only feel free
With their hands in the dirt
In a pair of old jeans
And their favorite t-shirt
Some people feel enslaved
When they have a boss
Some people without one feel totally lost

To make this world work
It takes all different kinds
We all have different tastes
Different strengths, different minds
So it doesn't make sense to generalize
And it doesn't make sense to judge
With our eyes
We need more compassion, we need to be kind
If you open your heart
You might like what you find
Cause there are some nice bus drivers
And there's some mean bus drivers
And there's some nice cops in madison, wisconsin
And there's some nice teachers
And there's some mean teachers
Just because you got a mean teacher
Doesn't mean all teachers suck
And no one is nice all the time
No one is mean all the time
Think about what someone's going through
That's making them be mean to you
Like maybe their pet gerbil died
And they are really sad inside
Or maybe they got in a fight
With someone that they really liked
Or maybe they are really shy
Don't know how to socialize
May just want to run and hide
Not saying that it's justified
But if we learn to empathize
The resentments will vaporize
Situations metamorphize before our very eyes
Then the need to stereotype
Will become outdated
When we realize that everyone
Is really complicated
We are all so complicated
We are all so complicated
I am also complicated
I am also complicated

I'm a black mom, a lactivist
A home-owning punk
It's been over a decade since
The last time I got drunk
I drive a mini-van
And I've got junk in the trunk
I think danny devito is a total hunk
I like revisiting the shit
My therapist helps me remember
Being friends with someone for a long time
Still not knowing their gender
I fight for equal rights
And I fight for inner peace
And I pray to the dead
For the gratitude I need
I've got chickens in my backyard
And a little garden plot
I really hate commercials
But I got a slap-chop
Cause I'm a sucker for a remix
Let me tell you what
By the time that I am finished
You are gonna love these nuts
I'm a little bit pop culture, a lot bit diy
I don't know the definition of tmi
I write poems about my period
Post pictures of my log
If you don't like body functions
You shouldn't read my blog
My husband's a musician
From the mountains in france
He wrote me a song
We did interpretive dance
Then he knocked me up
Now we have the coolest kid
Yeah, hooking up with him's
The smartest thing I ever did
And I feel like I can fly
When I'm on roller skates
I get a little high
When I eat dried dates
I feel like I'm unloading
When I'm loading up the car
I feel like I'm exploding
When I'm holding my guitar
I don't understand
What numbers have to do with success
Or what sales have to do with happiness
Unless they're the kind
Of sails that will carry me to sea
Where my grandma and grandpa
Are waiting for me
I never thought I'd make it to 25
Now I'm 37 and I'm glad that I'm alive
If I ever need a tour bus
I'm still gonna drive
Cause I looking out the windshield
As the world goes by
Looking out the windshield
As the world goes by
Yeah, looking out the windshield
As the world goes by
Now I'm 37 and I'm glad that I'm alive
And I like looking out the windshield
As the world goes by

Letra enviada por

Encontrou algum erro na letra? Por favor, envie uma correção >

Compartilhe
esta mĂșsica

Ouça estaçÔes relacionadas a Kimya Dawson no Vagalume.FM

MIX DE MÚSICAS

ARTISTAS RELACIONADOS