 Wake up in a room where steel guitars turn to steel bars
You know I've lived here too long
Try to write these songs about being bored
Why am I so surprised when they all prove boring songs?
The second hand holds still while the hour hand slips by
I don't know just how long I've been here
I stare out the window and contemplate the sky
While I grow older than my years
Plucking strings by the side of my bed
By a stack of books, most of which I've never read
I want to capture in sound the way things are
But I'd regret it in the morning if I smashed my guitar
The second hand holds still while the hour hand slips by
I don't know just how long I've been here
I stare out the window and contemplate the sky
While I grow older than my years
Well, they're never gonna tell us
Just what's coming around the bend
But there's one thing I can count on
That's that old man time is not my fucking friend
For the reaper lurks in stillness
But motion too is death
So I just float between them
Moving in and out to the rhythm of my breath
The second hand holds still while the hour hand slips by
I don't know just how long I've been here
I stare out the window and contemplate the sky
While I grow older than my years
The second hand holds still while the hour hand slips by
I don't know just how long I've been here
So I stare out the window and contemplate the sky
While I grow older than my years
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