| All I needed was fifty dollars a week
|
| And a gas tank that leaked
|
| And a place to call home
|
| Didn’t care if my hands got dirty
|
| Or if I made it to thirty
|
| At least we weren’t alone
|
| Maybe I should be more like I used to be
|
| I should be more like I used to be
|
| And yeah, the sails have set
|
| But I’m not dead yet
|
| What we had, we made it work
|
| With a shrug and a smirk
|
| Like when Fletcher got robbed
|
| We could kill a day from noon to nine
|
| On the stoop, just fine
|
| Now we all got jobs
|
| Maybe I should be more like I used to be
|
| I should be more like I used to be
|
| And yeah, the sails have set
|
| But I’m not dead yet
|
| I could count on one hand right
|
| All the hours I slept each night
|
| Oh yeah, the sails have set
|
| But I’m not, not dead yet
|
| I could count on one hand right
|
| All the hours I slept each night
|
| Oh yeah, the sails have set
|
| But I’m not, not dead yet |