Art Of Almost Wilco

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Oh, I froze
I can't be so far away from my wasteland
I'll never know when I might ambulance
Or hoist the horns with my own hands
Almost... almost...

I heard a faint olé true love
But I had other ways to hurt myself
Like calling, I could open up my heart and fall in
And I could blame it all on dust
The art of almost
Almost... almost... almost...

I hold it up, I shake the grade
Disobey across the waves, tomorrow
I'll have all the love I could ever ache
And I'll leave almost with you,
Art of almost
Almost... almost...




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