Some read the morning paper
Some read the T.V. Times
Some pour the 2%
But never see the others eyes
Some pass the second guessing
Some write the tenth reprise
A new vocation is the art
Of taking bad advice
I don't know if we'll ever call it even
I don't understand anything anymore
You could be less aware
I could be more awake
We could be makin' it
Well maybe someday
In our own sweet time
Some could be hidin' something
Some guess they'll never know
Some turn in circles, until one of them
Decides to go.
Some would be lying if they said
They don't feel the same
Some learn to shut their mouths
And never have to lie again
I don't know if we'll ever call it even
I don't understand anyone anymore
You could be less alive
I could be more sedate
We could be makin' it
Well maybe someday
In our own sweet time
In our own sweet time
People say that we'll never call it even
They don't understand anything anymore
There could be more to life
There could be less to say
There could be more to us
Well maybe someday
In our own sweet time
I don't know if we'll ever call it even
I don't understand anyone anymore
You could be less alive
I could be more sedate
We could be makin' it
Well maybe someday
In our own sweet time
In our own sweet time
Maybe someday
