Insight. Hindsight. from Sketches by Jason David Tanner

Balanced on a fence
Looking up at the sky
Caught up in the past
Caught up in a lie
And I’m all messed up
Between right and wrong
I don’t know where I belong
No I don’t know where I belong

Now my good friend
Died at the hands
Of a wicked girl
Money on demand
Sitting in his grave
He don’t smile no more
In his grave
He don’t laugh no more
In his grave
He don’t talk no more

Insight. Hindsight.
Oh lord I hope I make it out tonight
And lord I’ll never make it through this night

You’re a fickle girl
You don’t know where you stand
We walked all over town
And you took my hand
You kissed me drunk
Then you said to me
I’m Irish, boy
I don’t feel a thing
I’m Irish, boy
I don’t mean a thing
I’m Irish, boy
I don’t mean a thing

Insight. Hindsight.
Oh lord I hope I make it out tonight
And lord I’ll never make it through this night

Insight. Hindsight.
Oh lord I hope I make it out tonight
And lord I’ll never make it through this night

• Alternative
• indie rock
• lo-fi
• rockfolk
• shoegaze
• surf rock
• Japan