| Yet another sluggard hour stumbles past
|
| It’s no wonder life looks better through the bottom of a glass
|
| These bitter litanies you keep repeating
|
| Are verbal fingers down my mental blackboard screeching
|
| Each moment in your company
|
| Was of more quantity than quality
|
| My hopes and dreams transparent phantoms
|
| This Wayward Son’s Irrational Anthems
|
| Not worth spending quantity time
|
| Life is hunger, life is pain
|
| Never ending quantity time
|
| Toe the line, take the strain
|
| Awake in bed in quantity time
|
| Hate to say I told you so
|
| Long time dead in quantity time
|
| Next stop Hell, not far to go
|
| My vision is obscured, blurred by tears of anger
|
| These four walls a prison where I rot in stagnant languor
|
| My broken heart screams out «someone repair me
|
| Or please lay me in the cemetery»
|
| 'cause you’ve taken all that’s best, you see
|
| So I’ll lay to rest the rest of me
|
| You cannot hold a dream to ransom
|
| Or silence my Irrational Anthem
|
| Not worth spending quantity time
|
| Life is hunger, life is pain
|
| Never ending quantity time
|
| Toe the line, take the strain
|
| Awake in bed in quantity time
|
| Hate to say I told you so
|
| Long time dead in quantity time
|
| Next stop Hell, not far to go |