I remember being young like you
I was a visionary
Now rejection's my god
And I am its missionary
And now who're you to tell me what to do
To find an old man a good wife too
Now I must go, I hear the whistle blow
And that's my cue
It's time to travel, though it's boring somtimes
It's what I have to do
I'm a salesman of sorts
I sell my pride for a meal and a good ride
I say goodbye to each city with a smile
And climb inside
And now who're you to tell me what to do
To find a old man a good wife too
My path for life is the tracks and I hide in the cracks
For fear of any verbal attacks
I met a friend who travelled with me
He gave in a little too easy
He laid himself on the tracks
Now he's twice the man he used to be
The train was late, so I stayed until it left again
Confused by the fact just existing doesn't please all me
My path for life is the tracks and I hide in the cracks
For fear of any verbal attacks
My path for life is the tracks and I hide in the cracks
For fear of any verbal attacks