"Biding My Time" getting stuck in my mind is a boat to row.
Two hours later back in my neighbourhood, where everything just stops.
It still looks the same, they remember my name stepped it 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 my.
There's a place on the right, you can stop for a while, look out for a policeman.
There's no street lamps only free buildings, and one of them's vacant.
Is taking all day, the pack's feeling heavy and soon the night.
Backwards down the mountain the axel is grinding, pull into the wrong drive.
The sky is in the yard,
Stringing cotton candy in the fall.
Slow card the hard to fall.
So long times I don't want it at all.
I've done this so long.
Something I ought to know.
Finally up, all the pieces disrrupted and the birds fly.
Trapped for a moment, the sheriff's department got the wrong guy.
The town is revealed the lone,
visible winds... through the fog.
This slow cruel hands of time,
turning you back into a child.