The Killers - The Getting By lyrics
Brandon Flowers, Dave Keuning
[The Killers - The Getting By lyrics]
It's just small-town filling and just
Living the small town an
Like my kids ride dirt bikes and motorcycles
And they just go across the street
In the field and ride
I can watch 'em off my front porch, um
My one boy's into shed-horn hunting
So he'll take off and go park his truck
Out west and be gone all day, and
They The mountains are just in our backyard
That's the nice part about it
When I get up
She swears that she don't hear it
Says that I'm as quiet as a mouse
I comb my hair and throw
Some water on my face
And back out of the stillness of our house
Lately, my patience is in short supply
Nothing good seems to ever come
From all this work no matter how hard I try
You know I believe in the Son
I ain't no backslider
But my people were told they'd
Prosper in this land
Still, I know some who've
Never seen the ocean
Or set one foot on a velvet bed of sand
But they've got their treasure
Laying way up high
Where there might be many mansions
But when I look up, all I see is sky
Maybe it's the getting by that
Gets right underneath you
It'd swallow up your every step, boy
If it could
But maybe it's the stuff it takes to get up
In the morning and put another day in, son
That holds you 'til the getting's good
Green ribbon front doors, dishwater days
This whole town is tied to the
Torso of God's mysterious ways
Maybe it's the getting by that
Gets right underneath you
It'd swallow up your every step, boy
If it could
But maybe it's the stuff it takes to get up
In the morning and put another day in, son
That keeps you standing where you should
So put another day in, son
And hold on 'til the getting's good
Twice a day twice a day
Yeah, twice a day it
Comes through my grandkids
When it comes through
They run out and they look down the road
Because they like to see it go by
Living the small town an
Like my kids ride dirt bikes and motorcycles
And they just go across the street
In the field and ride
I can watch 'em off my front porch, um
My one boy's into shed-horn hunting
So he'll take off and go park his truck
Out west and be gone all day, and
They The mountains are just in our backyard
That's the nice part about it
When I get up
She swears that she don't hear it
Says that I'm as quiet as a mouse
I comb my hair and throw
Some water on my face
And back out of the stillness of our house
Lately, my patience is in short supply
Nothing good seems to ever come
From all this work no matter how hard I try
You know I believe in the Son
I ain't no backslider
But my people were told they'd
Prosper in this land
Still, I know some who've
Never seen the ocean
Or set one foot on a velvet bed of sand
But they've got their treasure
Laying way up high
Where there might be many mansions
But when I look up, all I see is sky
Maybe it's the getting by that
Gets right underneath you
It'd swallow up your every step, boy
If it could
But maybe it's the stuff it takes to get up
In the morning and put another day in, son
That holds you 'til the getting's good
Green ribbon front doors, dishwater days
This whole town is tied to the
Torso of God's mysterious ways
Maybe it's the getting by that
Gets right underneath you
It'd swallow up your every step, boy
If it could
But maybe it's the stuff it takes to get up
In the morning and put another day in, son
That keeps you standing where you should
So put another day in, son
And hold on 'til the getting's good
Twice a day twice a day
Yeah, twice a day it
Comes through my grandkids
When it comes through
They run out and they look down the road
Because they like to see it go by