The story it grows older
The story is no story here
I never knew what it is
There's no sign of it ending
As I am it and ought to be
They're telling me I am
Bowling racecar driver
Superficial hitman
You're on the list at every door
You don't bowl or race fast cars
Composition competition, you drive
Just because I don't go
To the church where you reside
I might as well forget it
The nineties won't be back again
Til I'm 48 years old
I can be the hungry
As I eat my words again
Appealing yet appalling
Rising to my falling
Going to extreme ends, I am gagging on this scene
Bowling racecar driver
Superficial hitman
You're on the list at every door
You don't bowl or race fast cars
Composition competition, you shift
I'm the driver
Over time in its defence
I moved their car
And for a moment it made sense
But I fail them in the end
I fail it in the end
In the arms of old age
Knowing only one to lose
Feeling nothing more to hide
Consider life a forgery
As you're swimming in this stream, admit to fraudulence
Driven to thought, resigned to go that way
Bowling racecar driver
Superficial hitman
You're on the list at every door
You don't bowl or race fast cars
Composition competition, you drive
Composition competition, I'm losing
I fail them in the end
I fail it in the end