these things are good

a baby sleeping in her mothers’ arms
a motorcycle, a book of charms
you running down some beach in spain
you running back to me again

these things are good

a steady job, a happy home
solid rock, the sights of rome
i hope for plenty but there never is
i’m never satisfied with what I miss

these things are good

i’m indecisive at the crossroads sign
i take my pick and then i change my mind
i can’t make out which of the two is worse
the hand of god or the devils’ curse

these things are good