Time for the final bow, Rows of deserted houses, All our stable mates highway bound.
Give us our measly sum; Getting the air inside my lungs is heavenly, Starting out, with nothing but crippling doubt.
We'll rest easy justified.
Suffered a swift defeat, I'll endure countless repeats, The gift of memory is an awful curse, With age it just gets much worse, But I won't mind I won't mind I won't mind I won't mind