The dove flew out one mornin', I realized I couldn't stand.
I'd do anything to get on my feet again.
My feet again, my feet again.
I'd do anything to get on my feet again.
So I rolled on outta bed, and I crawled on down the hall.
Saw that dusty mirror on the left side of the wall.
And I tried to see my face, but I couldn't find the place.
What is a man like me to do?
What to do? What to do?What is a man like me to do?
I could try to beg for help, but they'd say, "do it all yourself"
So I choose to hold my tongue and turn away.
But in the back of my head there's things I wish I said.
But it'll all have to wait another day.
Another day. Another day.
It'll all have to way another day.
So I crawl back to my bed, and I looked out of the sill.
I can see the sun glare set behind the hill.
As soon as it was gone, I wondered "where'd it all go wrong?"
When will it all go my way?
Go my way. Go my way.
When will it all go my way?