Lyrics:
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or,
hot, lady
Gotta cool this anger
Oh gotta cool this mess we've made
It's so so hot, baby
Yes it's so hot
I just can't take it, I can't stand no more
There'll be no strings to bind your hands
Not if my love can't bind your heart
There's no need to take a stand
For it was I who chose to start
I
to stand, but still not sleeping
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming
What is the world coming to
When lovers can't believe
They got love comin' true
And then they up and leave
They say they will when they won't
the jingle-jangle morning I'll come following you
Though I know that evening's empire has returned into sand
Vanished from my hand
Left me blindly here to stand but
Night after night
I keep holding on
You say you love me
Then you leave me so lonely
Baby, I don't believe a word
You're sayin'
I think it's all some
you care, then I will be there
By your side
And now I stand here alone in the dark
Without you
There's nothing more that I would like
Than be
hot, lady
Gotta cool this anger
Oh gotta cool this mess we've made
It's so so hot, baby
Yes it's so hot
I just can't take it, I can't stand no more
Night falls, with gravity
The Earth turns, from sanity
Taking my only friend I know
He leaves a lot, his name is Hope
I'm never what I like
the fraud
Truth might still be alive like true and false
That's why I never really trust unless it's Lu endorsed
Sponsored by me and of course you know who
I tried so hard
All summer through
Not to think too much of you
But the more I try
The more I find
I just can't leave the past behind
Times
I tried so hard
All summer through
Not to think too much of you
But the more I try
The more I find
I just can't leave the past behind
Times
Shoot a couple head cracks, leave while you up
I'm a fly nigga, my denim vintage
Gold medal around my neck like I won the Olympics
We came from
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or,
don't care
(I don't care)
Everyone's so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradles to the grave
inside of my songs 'cause I know they be bragging a lot
I can't keep taking these pills, getting high with these bitches, I'm supposed to be handing 'em
baby, stable mentally, I ain't, I need my meds, I peed my bed
I'm going blind, I don't see my legs, I keep on falling down
No wonder you can't stand me,
mother
I can't seem to remember
Much at all these days
Picture open doorways
No pick-ups by the taxi boys
Just a bed near the window
And an old
feel like Road Runner
I get my feet loose
I got that Superman hidden under my jean suit
Sittin', just waitin' for Lois to wanna leave too, me too
I
you'll be a go-getter
Now the way that you shake my hand
Will tell me how I stand
Now isn't it better to go through life with a smile and a song
Then
in my corner, don't know where is my corner
But I gotta grab all these leaves
So I must ..
[Chorus - Wyclef Jean]
Hey, Timbaland you gotta hold
Shoot a couple head cracks, leave while you up
I'm a fly nigga, my denim vintage
Gold medal around my neck like I won the Olympics
We came from
to coast
And I am by the riverbank
Hiking toward the borderline
I gaze upon the reeds
And kindly leave
Reciting conversations
I overheard as a kid
I can't
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