2 Meanings
Add Yours
Follow
Share
Q&A
Rest of My Life Lyrics
The battle is over.
Here we all lie
In a dry sea of Solo cups
With the sun in our eyes.
But it's one of those endings
Where no one claps 'cause they're sure that there's more.
What a great way to start the first day of the rest of my life.
I guess the show's going on.
So we pick up the pieces
We dropped for a song
And an ear-splitting headache
That makes it hard to figure out which puzzle they're for.
But I can leave this part out of the story I write.
And there are worse ways to start the first day of the rest of my life.
Roommates, friends, lovers -- quiet.
I'm coming to.
I'm turning myself into something a little less promising,
A little more useful.
The battle is over.
We lost, but we'll live to call off the war.
Don't that ceiling look high from the floor?
Don't it hurt just to move
As we shrink from the light?
As it pierces our bodies and thaws out our hearts.
What a great way to start the first day of the rest of --
The rest of my life.
Here we all lie
In a dry sea of Solo cups
With the sun in our eyes.
But it's one of those endings
Where no one claps 'cause they're sure that there's more.
What a great way to start the first day of the rest of my life.
So we pick up the pieces
We dropped for a song
And an ear-splitting headache
That makes it hard to figure out which puzzle they're for.
But I can leave this part out of the story I write.
And there are worse ways to start the first day of the rest of my life.
I'm coming to.
I'm turning myself into something a little less promising,
A little more useful.
We lost, but we'll live to call off the war.
Don't that ceiling look high from the floor?
Don't it hurt just to move
As we shrink from the light?
As it pierces our bodies and thaws out our hearts.
What a great way to start the first day of the rest of --
The rest of my life.
Add your song meanings, interpretations, facts, memories & more to the community.
From http://www.nonesuch.com/artists/nickel-creek :
"Opening track 'Rest of My Life' started out as a morning-after riff—-'maybe it was actually midday,' Sean corrects—as he surveyed the living-room detritus after a party at his Hollywood home. It was a rueful little melody that Chris then built upon, and he found words that somehow managed to express what the woozy Sean was feeling."
The Battle Hymn of the Middle Management Working Class! Brilliant sardony, Sean!