He reuses the verse melody from the previous album's "Dirty Little Religion", the topics of the verses are all over the place, and he packs too many words into one line (goes to show...) and too few in another (it's pretty hard to find), and rhymes "Henley Regatta" with "Persona non grata", but gets away with it all as only he could.
wake up and waste a day
chase away
a day at a time
and waste away
clean-faced today
clean taste today
toothpaste makes my orange juice sour
waste an hour
or so
my shower is slow
the flowers that grow
outside of my window
are blooming
I'm assuming
that you're comin' over soon
it's almost half past four
and you called here at noon
'cause there's a picture that you wanna see
now I'm not even good at being me anymore.
She's got nicotine-basted lungs
wasted thumbs
and one of them asphalt tastin' tounges
she wakes up to her alarm
her make-up is still on
and she can't remember why she set the damn thing
her heart is a machine
art is meant to be seen
not felt
not heard
it's just paint
they're just words
and fingers are for feeling
fists are for beating
scabs are for healing
and blood is for bleeding
that's just how I used to be
but I'm not even good at being me anymore
I wake up and waste an hour
pace and glower
at the TV set wasting power
aching in my head
I'm banking in the red
and compulsively charging cd's to my account
so come out Virginia, don't make me wait
you Catholic girls start much too late
now it's too late in the day
for a matinee
and I ain't got the money to pay
for you anyway
what should I say?
I know it ain't how it used to be
but I'm not good at being me anymore.
chase away
a day at a time
and waste away
clean-faced today
clean taste today
toothpaste makes my orange juice sour
waste an hour
or so
my shower is slow
the flowers that grow
outside of my window
are blooming
I'm assuming
that you're comin' over soon
it's almost half past four
and you called here at noon
'cause there's a picture that you wanna see
now I'm not even good at being me anymore.
She's got nicotine-basted lungs
wasted thumbs
and one of them asphalt tastin' tounges
she wakes up to her alarm
her make-up is still on
and she can't remember why she set the damn thing
her heart is a machine
art is meant to be seen
not felt
not heard
it's just paint
they're just words
and fingers are for feeling
fists are for beating
scabs are for healing
and blood is for bleeding
that's just how I used to be
but I'm not even good at being me anymore
I wake up and waste an hour
pace and glower
at the TV set wasting power
aching in my head
I'm banking in the red
and compulsively charging cd's to my account
so come out Virginia, don't make me wait
you Catholic girls start much too late
now it's too late in the day
for a matinee
and I ain't got the money to pay
for you anyway
what should I say?
I know it ain't how it used to be
but I'm not good at being me anymore.
Lyrics submitted by nikki04
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I think your first comment is closer to being accurate. The singer/song writers state "Millions of eyes can see, yet why am i so blind!? When the someone else is me, its unkind its unkind". I believe hes referring to the girl toying with him and using him. He wants something deeper with her, thats why he allows himself to be as a puppet (even though for her fun and games) as long as it makes her happy. But he knows deep down that she doesnt really want to be serious with him and thats what makes him.
all fixed, shirtsleeves.