Fred Jones Pt 2 Lyrics - Ben Folds Five

Fred sits alone at his desk in the dark 

There's an awkward young shadow that waits in the hall 

He's cleared all his things and he's put them in boxes 

Things that remind him, life has been good 

Twenty-five years, he's worked at the paper 

A man's here to take him downstairs 

And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, it's time 

There was no party, there were no songs 

'Cause today's just a day like the day that he started 

No one is left here that knows his first name 

And life barrels on like a runaway train 

Where the passengers change, they don't change anything 

You get off, someone else can get on 

And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, it's time 

Streetlight shines through the shades 

Casting lines on the floor and lines on his face 

He reflects on the day 

Fred gets his paints out and goes to the basement 

Projecting some slides onto a plain white 

Canvas and traces it, fills in the spaces 

He turns off the slides, and it doesn't look right 

Yeah, and all of these bastards have taken his place 

He's forgotten but not yet gone 

And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, and I'm sorry, Mr. Jones 

And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, it's time