| Frozen fingertips all stiff and tired
|
| Trucks scream by and my eyes stay wired
|
| Shaking vibrations from the howling wind
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| Whispering everything will eventually cave in
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| Self pity for being in a pile
|
| The lonely clown in exile
|
| Got my doctor on speed dial
|
| He’s put me under the suicidal file
|
| There’s a better way than being this fragile
|
| And I know I’ll be waiting for awhile
|
| I’m sure I’ll be watching this hour glass
|
| Slowing down over every bump in my path
|
| I think I might just stay outside tonight
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| Sit on the couch stare out til I lose my sight
|
| Wander bout the miner felons locked up in juvenile camps
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| Sedated til they become more of a sensible man
|
| Passing swiftly with a frequent dash
|
| You can imagine the fast crash
|
| Not a second more to elaborate
|
| They’re all bound to jailbait
|
| Self pity for being in a pile
|
| The lonely clown in exile
|
| Got my doctor on speed dial
|
| He’s put me under the suicidal file
|
| There’s a better way than being this fragile
|
| And I know I’ll be waiting for awhile
|
| I’m sure I’ll be watching this hour glass
|
| Slowing down over every bump in my path
|
| Yes I am the loneliest lonely clown, I’m renown for being down
|
| Somehow I’m a magnet for this roundabout |