Who can tell what is to come
Who’s to say what may be;
Well it ain’t me
It ain’t me
‘Cause I looked down your twisted vine
And I saw you; that’s right, I saw you;
And I looked at your stranger eyes
And I whispered, “why”;
That’s when you shocked me...
And I said,
Who can tell what is to come?
And I asked,
Who’s to say what may be?
Well it ain’t me;
It ain’t me.
Because you looked down my twisted vine,
And you saw me--feels like you caught me.
And you looked my stranger eyes
And you whispered, “why?”
That’s when I shocked you...
And you said,
Who can tell what is to come?
And you asked,
Who’s to say what may be?
Well it ain’t me;
It ain’t me.
Gorgeous fingerstyle guitar playing from this Portland, Oregon musician that captures the spirit of American Primitive in dazzling detail. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 30, 2021