Anything But the Truth

By Jack Johnson

If they tell me that the bees
Don't make honey anymore
Then what am I supposed to tell you
And if they tell me that the ocean
Is tired of her shores
Then tell me
What am I supposed to tell you

When I can't tell you anything
But the truth

What happens to an eagle's nest in a storm
How does the mama
Keep the baby warm
What if the wind
Is telling us that its time
And what if we're not ready to fly

I can't tell you anything
But the truth

Tree tops they touch the ground
In the morning walk with no sound
Hear no birds, hear no planes
Through the mud, feel the clay
Build it up, make it sing
Make it strong, give it wings

But I can't tell you anything
But the truth

What is this place?
Who am I?
Why did we come here?

I don't know, I don't know
But I don't know
That we're meant to know


Dear Jack Johnson;
You make it seem like I have a soul or something.
Thanks, man.