| F | C | F | C | |
| Days up and | down they come | like Rain on a | conga drum |
| C | G | F | C | |
| Forget most, re | member some but | don't turn none | away |
| F | C | F | C | |
| Everything is | not enough & | nothin' is too | much to bear |
| C | G | F | C | |
| Where you've been is | good and gone all you | keep is the gettin' | there |
| CHORUS: |
| F | C | F | G | |
| To | Live Is To | Fly Both | low and | high |
| C | G | |
| So | shake the dust off | of your broken wings |
| F | C | |
| And the | sleep out of you | eyes |
| Good-by to all my friends it's time to go again |
| Just think about the poetry and the pickin' down the line |
| I'll miss the system here the bottom's low and the treble's clear |
| But it don't pay to think too much on the things you leave behind |
| CHORUS |
| We all got holes to fill & them holes are all that's real |
| Some fall on you like a storm sometimes you dig your own |
| The choice is yours to make, time is yours to take |
| Some sail upon the sea some toil upon the stone |
| FINAL CHORUS: |
| To Live Is To Fly Both low and high |
| So shake the dust off of your broken wings |
| And the sleep out of you eyes |
| Shake the dust off of your wings |
| And the tears out of your eyes... |