| Lately I’ve seen every sunrise driving down the interstate
|
| On my way to be the fisrt one through the factory gate
|
| It didnt used to be like this
|
| The difference is night and day
|
| I used to count the minutes
|
| (Glad that it was quitting time)?
|
| I couldnt wait to punch that clock and leave this place behind
|
| But now when the whistle blows
|
| The difference is night and day
|
| Cause it means I’ll have to head on home
|
| And spend another night alone
|
| Counting memories that you left behind
|
| The linen in the kitchen drawer
|
| That shirt of mine you always wore
|
| Something always takes me back in time
|
| The weekends I can fish or catch a ball game with the guys
|
| Anything to get me out of this house for a while
|
| But the minute I go home
|
| The difference is night and day
|
| As long as I dont have to see
|
| All those things reminding me I can tell myself that Im moving on But as soon as I walk though that door
|
| I know that I’ll find something more
|
| That shows me just how far I’ve really gone
|
| Maybe I’ll get lucky and get some sleep tonight
|
| Either way Im out of here as soon as it gets light
|
| Outside this four walls
|
| The difference is night and day
|
| No it didnt used to be like this |