The biding of time getting stuck in my mind is a boat to roll
Two hours later, back in my neighborhood where everything just stalled
It still looks the same
They remembered my name, steppin' in for a cup full
There's a big city man I used to rumble with him back in high school
The slow cruel hands of time
Turn you into molten lava, oh myA place on the rise you can stop for awhile
Look-out for the police man
There's no street lamps, only three buildings and one of them's vacant
It's taking all day the packs feeling heavy and soon the night
Backwards down the mountain, the axle is grinding, pull into the wrong drive
The sky is in the yard
The stringy cotton candy is the fall
The slow climb, the hard the fall
Sometimes I don't want it at all
I've done this so long
It's something I ought know so longFinally up on the pieces disrupting and the birds fly
Trapped for a moment, the sheriffs department got the wrong guy
The towns reveal the law
Visible wind through the fog
The slow cruel hands of time
Turning you back into a child
Songwriters
Benjamin BridwellPublished by
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.