Like the last granules of sand -
these are days-a-wastin'!
Grease monkey on a bridge
knows the password, knows which way to go
Cold junkie on a ledge
holds his heart, contemplates the jump
Warm body on a bed
flushes away the fears, regroups for tomorrow
A hothead gathers steam -
she knows there's a train-a-comin'
Sands-a-slippin',
the tide's washing you away
Everyone had a laugh and a drink
Let's take roll and see who all is left
Let's take a pulse and see
who is alive and who is dead
Impulse says to make a plan
I've got plans to act on impulse
With a hammer to the porcelain god on the mantle
who never answers prayers
With a hammer to the skull
who never knows an answer
Slippin' away, yesterday
was the day I've spoken of
MM 1997
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