Me and my big ideas

Won't wash away your tears

No one else seems to mind

That I'm not that kind

Go get a volunteer

We'll pay him well my dear

He will see inside your mind

Because he is that kind

It's a southern kind of heat

The shadows crack and start to creep

Conversation drags its feet

I wish we'd both been more discreet

Like light that is caught between night and day

You're stuck between me and my

Me and my big ideas

Won't wash away your tears

So many strings to your bow

Why not let one go

Well they love you when you're weak

Bet they hate to see this winning streak

It's that thing we call control

There's a deep frustration in their soul

Black thoughts

That are stuck between someone's ears

Like me and my big ideas

So many strings to your bow

Why not let one go

In a way this dream is over

Blown away our four leaf clover

There's no reason why

Me and my big ideas

Won't wash away your tears

No one else seems to mind

That I'm not that kind