Most Days - Mojave 3

She was a hummingbird’s song

She fluttered her wings but she would not come in I threw my weight at the door

But she held her ground and she would not give in Some days I’m better than most

Most days I’m tied to the post

What’s so bad in being bad?

Bad is bad, and boy, that’s a fact

She said she was born a traveler

I said I knew as she ran out the door

Our love is like old money

Somewhere out there, somewhere out in the past

She was a hummingbird’s song

She fluttered and danced but she would not come in Though I don’t think of her daily

I praise the Lord that I never made it Most days I’m better than most

Some days I’m tied to the post

What’s so bad in being bad?

Well, bad is bad, and boy, that’s a fact

Some days I’m better than most

Most days I’m tied to the post

She said she was born a traveler

And I said I knew as she ran out the door

I said, «I won’t you let you go, girl»

She said, «Boy, you know you’re just clutching at straws»

She was a hummingbird’s song

She fluttered her wings but she would not come in I threw my weight at the door

But she held her ground and she would not come in Most days I’m better than most

Some days I’m tied to the post

Yeah, most days I’m better than most

Most days I’m tied to the post