sometimes i can t stop from puttin my guitar down sometimes i can t help but to leave it laying around sometimes i can t stop myself from falling in love other times i can t stop from shuttin out everyone sometimes i can t help all the wrong i ve been dealt hitting me all at once so hard below the belt sometimes i can t stop waking fearful at night sometimes i m full of worry other times i m alright sometimes when it s late my mind will start to race reach to my bedstand i ll write til the night s end then i ll fall asleep find an inner peace when i think of redwing blackbirds calling in the trees sometimes i can t stop hovering black clouds nature comes crushing taking my brothers down sometimes i can t help what falls out from the sky last night i got word jason molina died why does the world take the good ones away beatin them down so much puttin them in their grave sometimes i don t know what it s all about all they were is songbirds who sang their hearts out all they are is songbirds flying tree to tree crossing every desert crossing every sea singin pretty songs we applaud and cheer them on i ain t surprised no more when another s dead and gone another dead and gone another dead and gone another dead and gone another dead and gone sometimes i don t know what s happened to all my friends i don t hear from them as much they re all raising children and i m still out doin pretty much what i want i go to bed late and get up when i get up it s never been my dream swim in the mainstream we re in a different current but they re okay with me and where they are at i get and understand i love them and their children and i d break my back for them sometimes me and my sister go out to the river we bring her lovely daughter skip stones across the water my friends bring their kids over on the fourth of july we watch the fireworks blowin up in the sky sometimes i can t stop from goin out to the mountains gettin out from the city for the quieter surroundings i go there for the deer i go there for the possums to see the cherry trees and the crape myrtles blossom i go for the sequoias i go there for the pines i go to see the purple flowers bloomin on the vines i go to see the cats sleepin on my lawn to hear the squirrels runnin across my roof and at night when it s dark i walk in the park look in the lonesome cemetery where all the bones are buried some of them were born in the late 1800s lived 10 or 20 years how they died i wonder how they died i wonder how they died i wonder how they died i wonder how they died i wonder1