Scattered Pieces (Live)

Scattered Pieces  by Gary Antol

Little boy, little girl, little waterfall world,
Little valley shaded green.
Building up a dam with the mud on their hands
making puddles in a little stream,
With eyes so wide they can mirror in the sky,
Paint the truth like a pointed blade.
My two cents don't make much sense,
but you've gotta grow up one day.

Seems to me that all the things I've seen repeat,
Nothings free, not the dust beneath my knees,
I'm dirty and I'm humbled, now do what I do best,
Scatter the pieces and study the mess.

Now the years roll by with a wink and you sigh,
gained knowledge, but it ain't clean.
It gets hard to have the faith and belief in a dream that you had when you were seventeen.
Now every story told gets covered with mold, familiar faces fade,
They go back to the fold, everything gets sold,
We're all gonna run cold one day.

Seems to me that all the things I've seen repeat,
Nothing's free, not the dust beneath my knees.
I'm dirty and I'm humbled now do what I do best,
Scatter the pieces and study the mess.

From the very first time that you dare ask why,
disappointment looms.
You spend the rest of your days in an unsure haze,
building walls make making little rooms.
Take a long look back, be content where your at,
Take it all for what it was worth.
Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

Seems to me that all the things I've seen repeat,
Nothing's free, not the dust beneath my knees.
I'm dirty and I'm humbled, now do what I do best.
Scatter the pieces and study the mess.