Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers
Mile High and Risin'
I´m tired of lickin´ them boots that been-a-kickin´ me!Sick of them sour grapes they keep-a pickin´ me!Set loose your wings, cut the strings of your puppeteersFreedom begins, baby, between your earsReach for the skyYou do not have to buy what they been advertisin´Not when you´re mile high and risin!Opened my eyes to the lies that´d been a-trickin´ me!Cut all the horns, pulled the thorns that´d been-stickin´ me!ChorusIf you got the feelin´ what they´re dealin´ got you livin´ under way too low a ceiling...Cut through your doom and your gloomC´mon and grab yourself some headroomChorus
From Letras Mania