A quarter after two. Sittin' in my car, watchin'. Waitin' on a train. Ninety seven flat cars. Loaded down with troop, trucks and tanks. Rollin' by. . I'm twenty one.
Never again, so called friend leave you, sick and dry. This friend has a name knows gutter and shame. So called friend of you and I. . Oh break so, the long term goals I leave this friend behind.
This song is sung for anyone that's listening. This song is for the broken-spirited man. This song is for anyone left standing. After the strain of a slow, sad end.
Beer makes you weary. But you need something to get along. You stare at the flatness. Beside the dark home. They'll not hear you whisper. This isn't where it ends.
What's funny how it all works out. Mad men in suits walkin' about. Like to change your point of view, someday. But I feel my patience slippin' away. .