There's a guy singing in the edge of the room Making sounds through a face like a prune He's got them fancy checkered pants and a chip in his tooth Oh no, yeah, yeah, yeah Suffocating from patchouli and smoke Here's the fifty-first song that he wrote About the girl who split fifty weeks ago Oh no, yeah, yeah, yeah And there's a weight sitting real heavy down there on his shoulder The patented moves growing colder The seventh chord just keeps getting older Oh my soul, just hit me if I get on a roll But this all sounded so good in the bedroom cold Oh yeah, yeah, yeah But its only a 2 AM tune With a bridge lifted from "My Aim Is True" From the setlist drink to the practice room Oh yeah, yeah, yeah But there's a weight sitting real heavy down there on his shoulder The patented moves growing colder The seventh chord just keeps getting older And he knows just as sure as this microphone stinks There's a change coming through and he ain't going home alone tonight And there's a weight sitting real heavy down there on his shoulder The seventh chord just keeps getting older Is it me or is the room getting colder Oh, we're going down, but don't it sound sweet Feel the dust building up at our feet The seventh chord just keeps getting older