The more I hurt,
The less I feel,
The more I know,
The less I rest in this

Lone star state of mine

The more I hurt,
The less I feel,
The more I know,
The less I rest in this

Lone star state of mine

Say it straight,
Don't bend my ear,
When I'm walking in an evening air,
You two-step into my idle home,
And tearing my song all up with minor chords now

The more I solve,
The less I work,
That can't be good for some boy out of love,
Out of touch, out of lust, out of soul,
n'Out of song