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