ripped out chords and hang dog days stuck in thorns with worn down haze but dont undo all that you knew it wont come through and lose its use well come and make a record like your dear old dad yeah well give you all the money then make you feel sad so youre reaching for the mettle and you touched it too soon tore the rings out your pocket now youre buried on the moon buried on the moon cut from roads and unthought ways built on grounds just made to break but well undo all that we knew it wont come through and lose our use now im wrapped up in lives so slow under the guise im never wrong i sometimes wish that i could be back again and when i sit there all alone watching the guns of navarone i slip into scenes that maybe im back again with my friends im back again but lost my friends my friends a friend a friend