, miles þarký sözü

i need a reason to get up /before i wash my face
the junkies, the hookers, the dealers the place
kickin´ off my covers / trippin´ off the fact
that i haven´t called my gramma in a long, long time
standin in the shower/ for almost half an hour
tryin´ to wake up/ and i´m lookin for the power
reachin´ for the towel/ with soap in my eyes
dryin´ off my shoulders,/ my chest, and my thighs
the next thing i know/ the telephone rings
i hear my own voice /on the answering machine
please leave a message/ i´m glad ya called
i listen for a voice /but there´s nothin´ at all
man oh man
i gotta kick the blues
and pay respect where respect is due
all praises to god the one i return to
the one i can turn to
when i´m feelin burned to the bone

(chorus)
early in the morn/ before i wash my face
the bed is still warm but there´s an empty space
easrly in the morn/ before i wash my face
a hundred thousand miles is a lonely place

at six in the morning /she rolled outa bed
stared out the window/ and then she said
that i wasn´t her type...
i think she´s runnin outa types though...and i told her so.
she picked up her things and walked through the door
and then said that she couldn´t see me no more
just as she was leaving /i asked her if she´d call
she didn´t look back / said nuttin at all
i didn´t change my clothes/ because they smell like you
and when i took a shower it reminded me of you
i called gramma brown/for advice
it happened to me once/it happened to me twice
michael/ my son/ you sound really bugged
i wish that you were here /so i could to you give
a hug then she gave me/ a long, long talk
she said "you have the patience /of ice on a sidewalk"
when things get rough/ don´t sweat it
sometimes in life you just have to let it
and sing out a song / so strong
that even a bad dream couldn´t bring harm
to the mind of a young childs battles
formed from the candle light shadows
her voice is like a whispering kiss on the forehead

(chorus)
early in the morn/ before i wash my face
the bedisstill warmbut there´s an empty space
early in the mornin/beforeiwashmy face
a hundred thousand miles is a lonely place

in the last thirty minutes/before i fall asleep
when i have said my prayers /and i have brushed my teeth
this is the time /when i am forced to think about
all of the things/ i been tryin to forget about
the bills, the phone, cleanin up my room
the cars, the traffic, the speakers and the boom
alone i remember /the times with me and you
and i realize my heart is shakin´ up the room
gramma she would tell us /about the glory days
and gramma she would tell us/ about when we were slaves
in the livin´ room/ pianos outa tune
on top of it the pictures /of every bride and groom
child/ grand child /lost child
every single tear shed / every single smile
´cause everybodies got/ alota shit to deal with
and life doesn´t stop/ it just makes ya feel it
so shake the dust/ offa your feet
take a step forward/ liberate with the beat
so for you/ i wrote this song
i wanted you to hear it/ before you are gone.
the african in me/ the seminole in me
these are some a things my grandmother gave
to me some believe there are and some believe there
ain´t if ever there was one my gramma brown she is a saint

(chorus)
early in the morn/ before i wash my face
the bed isstill warmbut there´san empty space
earlyin themornin/ before i wash my face
a hundred thousand miles is a lonely place