Walking to the river, breaking in a new pair of shoes.
On a sunny day, trying to chase away these thunderstorm blues.
They come in all the time, they got no season no more.
When the sky’s getting green, better get to a lower floor.
In my hometown, the storms roll in every day.
So they put up a million bars to try to keep those storms at bay.
I tried to stay out on the road, but that only got me down.
It only went to show that nobody needs me around.
Standing by the river, it’s flowing fast and high.
I’m wondering how Jesus knew he was ready to die.
If I floated down the river, I’d end up in New Orleans.
The storms down there are like nothing I’ve ever seen.