Here I am again, perfect timing
The strings are ringing and the words are rhyming
I used to hate the fool in me but only in the morning
Now I tolerate him all day long
Out on the highway
I hear the moaning
That low and lonesome whistle you only know from longing
And through those naked trees got the windows blowing orange
Taking over that cold shoulder racing by
I might have known before
If I've got this old before
I thought I got too cool to give a damn
Do you see in dreams at night scenes to spend the afterlife
Trying to live the last one down
Here I am again, perfect timing
The strings are ringing and the words are rhyming
I used to hate the fool in me but only in the morning
Now I tolerate him all day long
Writer(s): Larry Johnson
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