Have you ever tried to turn back time
distinguished in its place
but outta place and outta time
it seems like such a waste

the belief that I could fix my past
was very hard to take
but soon I learned to pack it
in a box and wait
you let it cure like fine red wine
and settle in its place
and soon the words would spill right out
and vanish on the page

whatever were you thinking
whatever did you know
whatever were you wondering
when you hit the road

whatever were you seeking
whatever did you find
whatever were you wondering
when you towed that line

takin’ back I walk the floor
of this old house with many lives
and listen to what came before
the carpenter’s advice

in all the raging rivers
and undertows beneath
in awe of last night’s lightning
and trees with broken wings

I stand behind the western winds
that gently push me east
with common sense in doctrines
and a nice soft place to sleep

Refrain

at night we sat with wonder
all gathered in the street
with lights shone down from lamps above
inside this summer heat

with time again at summer’s end
we playfully rehearse

the art of wooing girls from here
and hiding when they turn

someday we’ll all be famous
and we can catch it as it fades
or we can struggle hard to hold on
but that seems like such a waste

so what do with all these questions
who and what and why
just sit back relax
accept the comfort of the sky