Blue breeze, Sunday morning Walk out the door to the local market Red and green apples Are catching my eyes along with people laughing I smile and hello; normal reaction But I'm thinking to myself Where can I run? Where can I hide? And disappear for just a little time Maybe a year, or maybe five And in this matchbook, leave parts of my mind Going back down to the dim edge of town After all this time, maybe just keep going Going back down to the dim edge of town After all this time, maybe just keep going Where do we go from here? Just keep going So I put on some records, 5 Jacksons On my computer, OK magic My heart was Built To Spill out all these notes And I open my books and consume Dickinson, Bucowski, Hall and Sandberg in them Still Life is still my favorite poem. I'm... Going back down to the dim edge of town After all this time, maybe just keep going Going back down past the haunts and the crowds After all this time, maybe just keep going Where do we go from here? Just keep going Going back down to the dim edge of town After all this time, maybe just keep going Going back down past the haunts and the crowds After all this time, maybe just keep going (Going back down) Going back down to the dim edge of town After all this time, maybe just keep going Going back down past the bars and the sounds After all this time, maybe just keep going Where do we go from here? Just keep going Just keep going