When the memory is a blank page And the teeth in your mouth are all clinches You heart is a bag of rocks your Soul is a pile of ashes on the sidewalk
There's an eagle scout project I used to come to to feel some kind of magic Now a story less, we'll wait out the days Wait out the days till death comes to claim
Anything that life didn't already take You can wait out the days The catch 22s are all Catching up with you
They're laying all over the middle ground You were walking on to avoid 'em And it's too late to turn around On the corner of Morisson
There's a shop that sells bracelets And little glass ornaments Looking in you can feel the magic And wait out the days