Pretty Slow Thing
My achy bones are getting old
Kind feel the fire for the cold
Switch off the television
White noise that penetrates
Plays havoc with my vegetative state
My incoherent, rambling head
Ignoring every word you said
I'm easily distracted
Someone's turned out the light
My concentration fades into the night
It's alright
It's alright
It's alright
It's alright
It's alright
It's alright
It's alright
It's alright
Autor(es): Mark Acton
