It Doesn’t Matter Any More

Buddy Holly died for most of your sins

carried on by an angel with white wings

this is just what typically happens

when one gives to the love of which he sings

something that's bigger than a Cadillac

cruising on down a hot black tar highway

driven by a drunk who is losing track

of the direction but still finds a way

to rave on... and on, weaving, whistling past

with empty whiskey bottles on the floor

thinking this drink will really be his last

that for now at least he can shut the door

But that will be the day he makes you cry

That will be the day when you say goodbye