Jinja Safari So Much
I broke the rhythm of remorse
I sold my cart to the horse
I only believe what I'm told
That getting rich never gets old
The sound of wheels to the tarmac
The burning wings of a rucksack
We're all tired of this stagnant water
Each footstep to you's getting shorter
The photos of me don't look like me
Is it time to look back or keep moving
The pictures of shadowy faces
With backgrounds of well traveled places
We can't go home
We can't go home
We can't go home
We can't go home
And then
Just wait to be called again
So much for making my way
So much for making new friends
So much don't care for a thing
Death bed of a dying king
You flew a red flag in the evening
I never quite could catch your meaning
I'm walking eyes closed to the pulpit
Forgot the message I had for it
So much for making my way
So much for making new friends
So much don't care for a thing
Death bed of a dying king
So much for making my way
So much for making new friends
So much don't care for a thing
Death bed of a dying king