Feather In Your Cap
Beck
Make a move with what you can,
Dead waters rise higher than your mind.
Disappointment is a feather in your cap,
You want the truth so you can crush it in your hand.
There's no map,
I can tell you where you are,
You're in between things that only go half way,
Your tangled brain,
A tired old refrain,
You'd be singing it in the tired old silence.
You want the best,
You want contest,
My eyes are filled with prizes you've been showin'.
Disappointment is the card up your sleeve,
Place your bets at the door before you leave.