From the recording Best Days of My LIfe
Look at my new coat, don't I look fine? I could just picture me in Paris sitting at a side walk cafe
I left a girl in Boston her life was a wreck; I'm missing the company of laughter but I'm thinking that I will be okay
'Cause I see Picasso drawing sketches on a canvas of grey
And Van Gogh is selling pastel sketches of a lazy summer sky
Dancers paint the air with rhythm, it seems the air's alive
And someone's been inside my heartbeat and their singing of my life
Look at my new hat, don't I look debonair...I could just picture me in Dublin, kissing that ancient Blarney Stone
The pub on the corner spills songs at my feet, and the tender call of bagpipe notes won't leave my heart alone
'Cause the pen of the poet is etched on the land
And Becket is speaking from a soapbox, 'cause all the world's a stage
The boots begin to clatter on the rugged cobblestone
The air is e soaked in wisdom and I'm feeling twice my age
If I could be there....whisk me away
There's lessons in the leaving I can't learn another way
Though certainty comforts, its ways are always set
And What's left behind will certainly get lighter with each step
Look at this new life, don't it just fit?
Like the seams of my new jacket, like the rim of my hat around my face...
I'm thinking of Lisbon, a place on the sea
The pluck of soft guitar strings, mantillas sewn with lace
'Cause history's speaking in a graspable tongue
And my heart is hungering for an answer, for some ancient sign
The road holds an answer, or so I was told
But the way is often clouded, and I guess that's by design
Look at my new coat...
Look at my new hat
Look at my new life....