I Won't Know Me Anymore

I wish I'd known all along: nothing for the singer, all for the song.
 My heart skips a beat when I look at these blue mountains. "Thou shalt not covet anything that belongs to thy neighbor." Those were my thoughts as I stole you a beer and drove you home in my one-eyed car.
 I was so open-minded--my brain was at my shoes.
 There was a time when we had everything to lose.
 What did we do?
 We drank, we smoked, we slept, we knew: We are worth nothing.
 Did you think that mommy would by your backbone for you?
 What a fool!
 She doesn't owe you anything, and I don't know you.
 There's no sweater contains these hivers, no shade in no summer me crave no river.
 What my travels taught me was how to find what I need when it's before me.
 So when I'm 40--not too far from now--I'm going to leave my wife and my teenage daughters and move to the beach.
 In short: I won't know me anymore.