[Verse 1]
An old man
A sensitive man
Intelligent man
An arrogant man
And every goddamn man in between
All that they've seen
Too much to drink
Got nothing to think
And not much to dream
Well that doesn't mean much of anything
Remember that wannabe Indian Jack
He's a hell of a talker now
Now that his teeth are falling out
Well onto the floor
That's what's in store
Nothing else more
Can't we explore
A different route to find our way out?
[Pre-Chorus]
And the dreams march around in your brain like some gremlin parade
And your eyes keep moving around
Well one day you'll have nothing to say
And the dogs will just play with your bones
Dragging them all over the ground
[Chorus]
And eventually the sparks disappear in your eyes
And the past just turns to gla**
The chimney sweep is fast asleep
And I'll call the reports wrong
When the waves just wish you back
You finally make it home
And the blood [?] of your own
On the position on this glove that you wrote
[Post-Chorus]
On my own
I'll make it home
On my own
I'll make it home on my own
[Verse 2]
So you plan on just sinking in the sand
Throw sh** at the fan
Howling is grandiose
That's about you
And the world knows
Well I hope it's exposed
Nothing else grows
Where the earth's froze
Everyone knows that it's supposed to go
Guess it just goes to show
Remember that wannabe president's son
He's not much of a talker now
Now who are you to judge?
Well I'm not gonna fuss
Hanging up rugs
Not stepping on bugs
Just as everyone does
Well I guess it's good living one with the mud
[Pre-Chorus]
And the dreams drip down in your brain like some stalactite in a cave
And your teeth keep moving around
Well one day I'll have too much to say
And the cat will just play with your tongue
Over my toothless mouth
[Chorus]
And eventually the rocks turn back into their crude
And our ma** back into weightless gas
I can't even see, there's rows in our trees
That are not tall or a force at all
But with pavement we'll cover up all of that
You finally make it home
And figure out everything you have owned
[?] exists as long as you'll ever call home "home"
[Post-Chorus]
Well on my own
I'll make it home
(And eventually the sparks disappear in your eyes)
On my own
(And the past just turns to gla**)
I'll make it home
(The chimney sweep is fast asleep
And I'll call the reports wrong)
On my own
(Where the waves just push you back)
I'll make it home
(You finally make it home
And the blood [?] of your own)
On my own
(On the position on this glove that you wrote)
I'll make it home