This is a song, that I wrote when I was young,
And I call it, the broken hearted blues,
The air on that night, was tempered like a knife,
And the people wore the face masks of a clown,
Don he was long, mis-shapen and forlorn,
And his woman ran away without a smile.
Days of the earth, are unbroken changeless turf,
But the faces of the men are something else.
In the wind, as a boy, was a spacious sexual toy,
But baby, now he's a toothless baggy man,
When the hills of the sun, make you feel that you are young,
Get good now, and face your face into the wind.
This is a song, that I wrote when I was young,
And I called it the broken hearted bluesFeel the weight i've been passing time
All those crazy faces run through my mind
And that song has brought a teardrop to my eye
Can't tell the bottle from the mountain top
No we're not right
I see this world but I can't relate
Hey that everything must accelerate
Betty Ford oh won't you be my valentine
Can't tell the bottle from the mountain top
No, we're not right
------------instrumentals---------------------
Can't tell the bottle from the mountain top
And now my hands are shaking
But i just can't stop
Can't tell the bottle from the mountain top
No we're not right
Can't tell the bottle from the mountain top
And now my hands are shaking
But I just can't stop
Can't tell the bottle from the mountain top
No we're not right
When I'm weak and my head is sore
And I feel like I can't go on no more
I come in here where normal rules do not apply
Can't tell the bottle from the mountain top
No we're not right
Can't tell the bottle from the mountain top
No we're not right
Can't tell the bottle from the mountain top
No we're not right
Yeah Yeah
Yeah Yeah