Tuesday, June 17, 2008

309 : 2/13/99 : Roundabout

Roundabout and down the spout
it happens every day
everybody’s big plans turn out the wrong way
Down and out nothin’ but a weak shout
Tomorrow tomorrow always a sorrow
Words strung beads on a long line
I run my fingers over each spine
Looking for the morrow and the proper book to borrow
Won’t lose what I’ve found with my eyes on the ground
The roundabout is always there
The senseless pressure in the air
Don’t make a sound let the surf pound

You can read an explanation of the origin of these lyrics here
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