Wipe the knife and slice through another new head of iceberg
I serve more hors d’oeuvres to the trashcan than to any man where I work
Waste in this place is a terrible thing to mind, likewise time
And I’m sure stacking gla**es in the back is a total waste of mine
But is it all just as small as it seems to be?
It’s obscene what the scenery costs when dreams are free
Sundays she makes dates with inmates and reads to each one from books
And when their fingers linger under big words they give her dumb looks
She believes in Stephen he’s been writing an exciting piece of prose
Though only weeks from his release and the police are patting down his clothes
But the long way is never the wrong way when it’s homeward
To be happy, yeah if you ask me, is only a matter of homework
And it’s all in the wrist
Care do not I you can words my twist
Cause it’s easy, so easy that you might miss
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When I’m trying to forget that you exist
And everything I do seems useless
When everywhere I go is an uphill climb
Just wanna hear your voice one more time
Tell me you don’t miss me too now
I swear I’ll never figure you out
Why can’t I get the hang of this
If the truth fits on a floppy disk and it’s all in the wrist