One, two, three, four

Well, every highway that I go down
Seems to be longer than the last one I knew about, oh well
And every girl that I walk around
Seems to be more of an illusion than the last one that I found, oh well
And this old man in front of me
Wearin' canes and ruby rings is like containing an explosion when he sings
With every chance to set himself on fire
He just ends up doing the same thing

Well, each beautiful thing I come across
Tells me to stop moving and shake this riddle off, oh well
And there was a time when all I wanted
Was my ice cream colder and a little cream soda, oh well, oh well
And a wooden box in an alley full of rocks
Was all I had to care about, oh well, oh well, oh well

Now my mind is filled with rubber tires, and forest fires
And whether I'm a liar and lots of other situations where I don't know what to do
At which time God screams to me "There's nothing left for me to tell you"

Nothing left for me to tell you, nothing left
Oh well, oh well, oh well, oh well
Oh well, oh well, oh well, oh well

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Jack White