Me and my big ideas
Wont wash away your tears
No one else seems to mind
That Im not that kind
Go get a volunteer
Well pay him well my dear
He will see inside your mind
Because he is that kind
Its a southern kind of heat
The shadows crack and start to creep
Conversation drags its feet
I wish wed both been more discreet
Like light that is caught between night and day
Youre stuck between me and my
Me and my big ideas
Wont wash away your tears
So many strings to your bow
Why not let one go
Well they love you when youre weak
Bet they hate to see this winning streak
Its that thing we call control
Theres a deep frustration in their soul
Black thoughts
That are stuck between someones ears
Like me and my big ideas
So many strings to your bow
Why not let one go
In a way this dream is over
Blown away our four leaf clover
Theres no reason why
Me and my big ideas
Wont wash away your tears
No one else seems to mind
That Im not that kind
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