I'm just waking up these days.
I'm just trying to keep my head clear when it hits the pillow.
I'm just waking up these days.
I'm just waiting for the first bus out of Amarillo.

The days keep coming, it's like everybody's taller in this place.
I can breathe. I can't see. The stars are farther off in space.
If I could keep the universe expanding and my spine contracting as I grow old, I would.
If I could keep the neighbors happy, never knowing what's been going on for their own good.

We're just trying to get back to normal.

We haunt blue corridors and leap between the moving cars,
Hydrofrack asteroids and loosen joints between load-bearing bars.
Everything's relative we're not about to save anyone.
Everything's healthy but can anybody get anything done?

We got the bad guy--just how many times am I supposed to practice saying that in the mirror?
We sweep our hats off, ride the banisters and take a bow, before we realize the room is clear.
If we could be just one time in the right place at the right time, our hearts might explode from fear.

We're just starting to get back to normal.

So here's one last time that we turn the page and face the blinding panic of starting something new.
Rely on meter and ignore the ink blots.
Play the game. The memories will help to pull you through.

The world's a traffic jam of paper cuts and unhappy ghosts.
If we could keep a wish we'd never settle on just one thing that we wanted most.
The crowflowers, nettles, daisies, dead men's fingers all tried to float,
But they can't keep you up if you've decided you'd be safer counting pebbles at the bottom of the moat.

We're just pretending that we're back to normal.

I'm just waking up these days.
I'm just trying to keep my head clear when it hits the pillow.
I'm just waking up these days.
The crowflowers, nettles, daisies, dead men's fingers all tried to float,
But they can't keep you up if you've decided you'd be lighter getting heavy at the bottom of the moat.