Falling with style

You're back on your feet, knock the dust from your jeans
And your soul's on its knees rolling dice with your dreams.
You've got a watch in your pocket, keeping track of the days,
And you OD'd on aspirin, but your headache remains.

CHORUS:
It's gonna be alright in a matter of time,
The dirt is gonna yield and the poem is gonna rhyme.
It's gonna be alright, it might take a little while,
Cause flying ain't nothing just falling with style

When you walk through the valley with the shadows to the west,
You can pull out your bedroll, lay down and get some rest.
And you can pray for the sinners, the most and the least,
And be awakened by the sun being born in the east.

CHORUS

You've got rope burns on your hands from holding on way to tight.
But if you let go today, they are gonna heal up alright
And your eyes are half closed from staring down the sun,
You got no time for singing. You're always on the run.

CHORUS