You were up to your necklace in drunk friends and wreckage when the New Year

Stepped out of the past through the rose colored glass and dropped you off here

With a broken kazoo, a faded marijuana tattoo, and confetti in your hair

Now you're Jesus' age, but you've only been betrayed by the calendar

Your mother remarried after your father was buried in this sailor's suit

Now she sells real estate, he floats in his grave, and neither has much to say to you

So you follow a cloud to a Betsy Ross shroud and see the wind try to rip it in two

But it don't make you feel any better when you're under the weather and it's hanging over you

It's fading

So what are you going to do now?

All America asked was for you to mow the grass

But you're thinking of throwing in the towel

Roll on

Mystery is bandaged with routine, Plaster-of-Paris, and mosquito net

While paint thinner blades strip the windshield of salt cake and sunset

Someone once said the humble would stumbled onto something long forgotten and ravaged

But your dreams soak the pillow just as a thimble of rain feeds the cactus

So drain your bruises, cut your scapegoats loose and confess ignorance

Pull a metaphor out of a river or a door and add your fingerprints

You could always go west just like the rest and bury your head into the hot sand

Or you could dust your broom and dissolve the moon on your eyelids

It's fading

So what are you going to do now?

You're either laying low or chasing smoke

Or thinking of throwing in the towel

Roll on