Testo The Getting By III - The Killers

The Getting By III

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, throw some water on my face
And back out of the stillness of our house
Lately my patience is in short supply
Nothing seems to come from all this work
No matter how hard I try
You know I believe in the sun, I ain’t no backslider
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
They’ve got the treasure laying way up high
There might just be a million mansions
But when I look up
All I see is sky
Maybe it’s the getting by
That gets right underneath you
Swallows 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 till the getting’s good
Green ribbon in 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
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
But maybe it’s the stuff it takes to get up in the morning
And put another day in, son
And hold you till the getting’s good