Round here there's just trouble
Chasing after the wind
Buy that line with all the money in the bank
And never ever look in
To be so damn enlightened
Oh to be so free
To be so down in the bottom of the ninth
At the top of the century
I came with dirty hands
I came with blinded eyes
Tongue tied I could barely speak the truth
About my tall lies
They sold me on some pleasure
Till the pleasure it sold me
Into something that looked and smelled
A whole lot like slavery
We all need new beginnings
The first steps make you better
Maybe you're just a prayer away
From getting your sh** together
Flowers growing out of the desert
Flowers out of parched ground
Flowers coming right up through the cracks
Of the pavement in your old town
Flowering's not a science
It's more like a fine art
Flowers coming right up through the cracks
Of our broke up little hearts