Lyrics

Fifth snow-covered Tuesday in so many weeks Check the mail for the sixth or seventh time today Fold this mighty newspaper over and over Anxiety quelled by underline Tiny prayers to the coffee cups scattered All across my house My only measure of time In whose world do these accolades matter? I guess not mine My slow world spins the same Fully consumed with what my grandparents used to do A contact high Method acting Tiny prayers to the coffee cups scattered All across my house My only measure of time Scattered like ashes Scattered like my old homes Scattered like stars After all that ,what did you expect to see? Yell until you're blind and/or all out of money Twenty-five Strummers and too many Ramones Like there's no place left to go I don't know what's worse No opinion or no thirst Or how I can't find a better use for my time