Beck
Feather In Your Cap
Make a move with what you can,
Dead waters rise higher than your mind.
Disappointment is a feather in your cap,
You want the truth so you can crush it in your hand.
There�s no map,
I can tell you where you are,
You�re in between things that only go half way,
Your tangled brain,
A tired old refrain,
You�d be singing it in the tired old silence.
You want the best,
You want contest,
My eyes are filled with prizes you�ve been showin�.
Disappointment is the card up your sleeve,
Place your bets at the door before you leave.
