Текст: Blind Melon. Soup. St. Andrew's Fall.

Big stretch and not much sleep
I got a couple of palm trees on each side of my cheek
And it's a bright blue Saturday
And the rummage sells the rubbish to me

But if I could buy the sky that's hangin'
Over this bed of mine
If I could climb these vines
And maybe see what you're seein'

If you were standing
On the corner staring straight
Into the eyes of Jesus Christ

One porch, one dog, one cockroach only way to be
I got sewage fruit and it's growing out back from roots
I don't know if they belong to me

But if I could buy the sky that's hangin'
Over this bed of mine
And if I could climb these vines
And maybe see what you're seein'

Sittin' at the edge of this building
Twenty stories below, a twenty stories below
Twenty stories below, twenty stories below

I can't tell you how many ways that I've sat
And viewed my life today but I can tell you
I don't think that I can find easier way
So if I see you walking hand in hand in hand
With a three armed man, you know I'll understand

Pockets full of crappiness can't piece together my day
So I pose myself this question
Maybe sleeps gonna get me in the shade
I got my head buried in this pillow
I got my head buried in this pillow, so low

But you should have been in my shoes yesterday
You should have been in my shoes yesterday