Written in May of 1995 in Nanaimo, British Columbia
I don’t mean nothing,
Nothing I wouldn’t say
I don’t need nothing
You wouldn’t want anyway
The sun comes up at the break of everyday
And we’re still here
Yellow moon rising like it always does
I’m sure it was a wiseman
But I’m not sure who it was
Who said “What goes around, comes around when it comes to blood”
And we’re still here
We’re still here
Standing tall when all the smoke has cleared
We’re still here
Baby, we’re still here
Wrecks on the highway
That could’ve been us
Blame it on nothing but blind faith and good luck
And when our story’s told
Not a word will be made up.
Because we’re still here
We’re still here
Standing tall when all the smoke has cleared
We’re still here
Baby, we’re still here