Light a fire, burn up all you know
You've had time time time
Time to let this go, but
Now you're burning letters out there in the snow in your backyard
Don't the years go rolling you're thirty-three
It is time for the cross
Time for the Bodhi Tree
But still you'd like to cry every time you skin your knee
Because it's hard
It's the same old friends on New Years Eve
The same snow falls on the same old leaves
And there's the same old joy, and theres the same old hurt
Same old corduroy shirt
Old storm windows and the broke-tail squirrel
And the grocery lists and the skateboard girls
And your rusty brain cells they give you a twirl
Oh no
Kitchen radio, I got coffee on
I could use a month or two or three to lean up on
But still the open road wants to get me gone
So off I go
Well it's the same old jar of car keys by the door
Its the same old scuffed up floor
And its the same old thirst for more until they put me in the dirt
Oh it's the same old nights alone
And its the same old 'baby when will you be coming home?'
Dont you want to feel the same old joy, feel the same old hurt?
Same old corduroy shirt
Same old corduroy shirt