| Traffic is at a standstill
|
| And I can’t see the moon through the city lights
|
| And I’m staring out a window at a life on foreign soil
|
| The city’s changing, lady, but some people stay the same
|
| I’m not looking for a hero
|
| I’m just waiting for simplicity
|
| Because it used to be so simple
|
| Living my life on so little
|
| Before I started admitting what gets the best of me
|
| And I wait with bated breath for the pieces that were left
|
| You can’t teach them what you don’t know
|
| I’m standing on the overpass
|
| With shredded paper and broken glass
|
| There’s got to be a single better place to talk this over
|
| Where you can tell me about my failings
|
| Or is it enough to know I’m fine with them
|
| If it’s good enough I’ll embrace it
|
| And it’s close enough, so close I can taste it
|
| These days are my days and that will never change |