Tim Veseley
A mother and her kids,
An eleven a.m. trip,
Down the street from where they live
To a grassy little stop
That someone's called a park,
'Cause it's routed in the wood.
A mother and her kids,
And they all have the same eyes,
And they're greener than they're blue,
And they love each other, too.
A mother looking tired,
Always weighted under
'Cause no one else brought food.
And it's a (Sunday) slow afternoon,
'Cause there's no one else around,
And the TV drags her down.
Under weight of growing up from the ground.
I aspire to work so hard.
All the gold is buried in the park.
A mother and her kids,
Walking hand in hand in hand,
And they all have the same eyes.
All The Same Eyes Lyrics performed by Rheostatics are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that All The Same Eyes Lyrics performed by Rheostatics is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD