Chris Smither Follow

I need confirmation of my duties
Help me get my poor life back in line
If I tell you what the hell I'm up to
Maybe you can tell what's on my mind

'Cause I don't pick no cotton
I never pick my nose
I couldn't pick a pocket
In a pile of dirty clothes

But I pick 'em, I chose 'em
I pick the locks that used to keep me in
I pick 'em up I put 'em down
That's how I get around but it's wearin' thin

I don't drive no bargain
I never drive a car
Couldn't drive a wagon
If you hitched it to a star

But I'll drive you crazy
Make you wonder who you are
Drive nails in your coffin
But I don't often let it get that far

Help me get these pieces back together
Make it so the seams don't seem to show
I had it patched with bits of glue and leather
How it fell apart I'll never know

'Cause I don't look for trouble
But it finds me all the same
If you hear me shout, just lookout
'Cause it's callin' me by name

It's lookin' still, it always will
If looks could kill I'd be six feet under ground
I never was good lookin'
But now I'm too old to let that get me down

Yes, I never was good lookin'
But now I'm too old to let that get me down
I never was good lookin'
But now I'm too old to let that get me down