When i was a kid i grew up in a house
On a hill not the top not the bottom but the middle and i still remember where i cracked my head in the vacant lot theres a row of tiny houses there now and we used to light fires in the gutters and i could cool my head on the concrete steps but the girl down the street hit my sister on the head with a stick and we hid behind my father as he knocked on her parents door to tell them what she did but the parents were drunk so they really didnt give a shit

And the girl down the street said a dog couldnt bark cause a man with an axe cut its voice box out bt my older sister told me that it probably wasn't true and i believe what she said coz she took me by my hand one time when a couple men drove down the hill in a white van said there was a phone box filled with money round the corner and i would have gone along but she took me by my hand to the house on the middle of the hill on the midle of the hill on the middle of the hill

And my mother knew the words to a lot of different songs and we always sing the harmonies when we'd sing along she had cool cool hands when the fever hit and then the noises that the trains made sounded like people in my head and the stories that the ceiling told through the pictures on the grains and the pine wood bumps and i could stay out side till the sky went red and i'd cool my head on the concrete steps and we could never really see the top from the bottom i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta you could never really see the top from the bottom i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta

I dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta i dont pay enough attention to the good things but i gotta now