Tell me
Does the present roll by exactly in the fashion in which you wanted it to be in
Tell me
How did it happen? Was it in a hurry? When did I get old enough to worry?
Tell me
That you're going places and I'm just getting by
Tell me
I've become a recluse, and they've all become poets over night
Tell me
That it's worth something but you don't have to lie
You don't have to lie, you just have to...
Tell me
That alienation is just a stage, and this is still our golden age
Tell me
Of wholesome fields or big wet ends, whatever it takes to feel whole again
In between what my parents did and what my children will do
To be anything but jaded, to do anything but spit on them I choose
To walk from angry rotaries that shake repeats at my feet
Tell me
What it means.



Lyrics submitted by marivista77

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