I used to jest that if you left I'd finally write that book,
Play piano, go to night school, maybe learn to cook,
Trade in my t-shirts for some dress-shirts for a brand new look,
Paint my masterpiece sublime.
But, y'know, so far the only thing I've done,
Is get sleepy, drinking whiskey, with the TV on.
It's more like bedlam than a bedroom but I can't clean it drunk,
And there's no-one here who minds.
I guess I'll wait for the time when my mind's on stonier ground.
I'll wait for the time when my mind's on stonier ground.
Sometimes I feel that it's all running down,
I'd have to fall headfirst to turn my frown around.
But falling's just flying 'til you hit the ground,
And the ground is nowhere near.
So while I sit here with my cigarettes,
Partly choking from the smoking, partly from regret,
Just respect that I'm not a wreck yet, girl, I'm just a mess,
And messes get cleaned up.
I'm happy here in bed right now,
Soon I'll want more, because I'm getting sore.
But one thing that I know for sure:
I'm strong enough to sleep this off.
So, after years of knowing what comes next,
I've got absolutely no idea what to expect.
So just relax, man, take a bath and count my one success:
The time I'm wasting, it's all mine.
Jim Clements – Vocals, Acoustic Guitar
Richard Clements – Drums
Meghan Engel – Violin
Rolla Olak – Electric Guitar, Vocals
Jenn Bojm – Vocals
Joseph Lubinsky-Mast – Upright Bass