Oliver Houston - Milk Door lyrics

Am I like a gray man, or more like a ghost? Folding up all my phases, and fading out almost Took against chances, and squandered a day Fumbling the facts–the place and time, the dates and names So leave me a hand up, or leave it alone Procrastinate! What's gone is dead, what's dead is done I move slowly (I know) But moving slowly is a kind of moving And I don't regret the paths I've made or the years I spent doing nothing, growing nothing in a place where every face is old So back to the milk door–the same house, the same walk, the same chore If I'm bored, there isn't anyone blame Wasting wasteland, crumbs of pavement, partial projects put off to vacancy I move slowly if you're wondering (I'm not), but wondering at all is a wonder to me Do you know what I mean?