grows older, the story is no story here I never knew what it
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is, and theres no sign of it
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ending As I am it
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and ought to be, theyre telling me I am
[chorus] Bowling race car driver, superficial hit
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man youre On the list at every door, you dont bowl or race fast cars Composit
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ion competit
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ion you drive
Just because I dont go, to the church where you reside I might as well go for it
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, the nineties wont be back again Until im forty-eight years old I can be the hungry, as i eat my words again, appealing yet apalling rising to my falling, Im going to extreme ends, Im gagging on their scene
[repeat chorus] You shift, Im the driver, over time in it
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s defense, I move their car And for a moment it
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makes sense, but I fail them in the end
In the arms of old age, knowing only one to lose Feeling nothing more to hide, consider life a forgery As you65533;re gagging on your scene, admit
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to fraudulence Driven to this thought, death is certain, fait