Nothing - Willis Earl Beal

Just chillin' in my cut thinkin' 'bout nothin'

I ain’t got much, but I’ma tell ya somethin'

You know I want your touch 'cause it makes me feel so tough, yeah

Standin' by my car, gotta play to make it start

Very far away but they’re close to my heart

Just a weird mission while I’m floatin' on the life preserve

Try not to slip or you’ll be alive to find the nerve

Just chillin' in the cut thinkin' 'bout nothin'

I ain’t got much, but I’ma tell ya somethin'

You know I need your touch 'cause it makes me feel so tough

You know I need your touch 'cause it makes me feel so tough, yeah

Sometimes I gotta find the time to pull off by the side of the road

Take a look up high and watch a hawk fly through the sky, yeah

Sometimes when I fear the lies I wanna run off and hide, in a hole

Lotta fame, say your name gonna change before I die, yeah

Just chillin' in the cut thinkin' 'bout nothin'

I ain’t got much, but I’ma tell ya somethin'

You know I want your touch 'cause it makes me feel so tough, yeah

You know I need your touch 'cause it makes me feel so tough

Just chillin' in the cut thinkin' 'bout nothin'

Just chillin' in the cut thinkin' 'bout nothin'

Chillin' in the cut thinkin' 'bout nothin'

Dream of eagles, whatever they show us

As time is measured by the hand

Siren of imagination

Swim across the desert sand

Gypsy dancers in the moonlight

Shivas shadow in the lens

Signs approximate the daylight

Passion burns until it ends

And to the sparkling diamond ocean

Silent sea from drift and flow

You shall return with drink and potion

The pilot drops you down below

Tell me clear, am I aqua?

To see the date of destiny

Please do not fear, it is the God One

Who will share the rest of me

The crucifix is made of sticks

The lovers wounds the wolves will lick

The scavengers will perish soon

The hell at hand will crumble tombs

To free components of the spirit

Unchain the slave they made within

And wandering strangers will get buried

And be changed forever then

Chillin' in the cut thinkin' 'bout nothin'

The crucifix is made of sticks

The lovers wounds the wolves will lick

The scavengers will perish soon

The hell at hand will crumble tombs

To free components of the spirit

Unchain the slave they made within