Old Man Time Ain't No Friend of Mine

Wake up in a room where steel guitars
Turn to steel bars,.
You know I’ve lived here to long
Try to write these songs about being bored
Why am I so surprised when they all prove boring songs?
The second hand holds still while the hour hand slips by
I don’t know just how long I’ve been here
I’ll just stare out the window and contemplate the sky
While I grow older than my years
Plucking strings at the site of my bed
By a stack of books most of which I’ve never read
I want to capture in sound the way things are
But I’d regret it in the morning if I smashed my guitar
Well they’re never going to tell us just what’s coming around the bend
But there’s one thing I can count on
That’s that old man time is not my fucking friend
For the reaper lurks in stillness, but motion too is death
Me, I float between them, moving in and out to the rhythm of my breath