Overcalculating

There's no gold in them hills
 And there's never gonna be a cloud
 With silver all around, it's just not found.
 Dirt on my window sill
 And the flowers have all turned brown.
 Dying in the cold hard ground, without a sound.
 And I can be so under appreciative
 And you can be so over calculating
 And that's alright.
 There's no gold in them hills
 And there's never gonna be a cloud
 With silver all around, it's just not found.
 And I can be so under appreciative
 And you can be so over calculating
 And I can be so over calculating
 And that's alright.