Age 39, looking over from my hotel window
Blue dots and red dots skating away in the park
I used to be there twenty years ago
Huffing over a mug of hot chocolate drink

Age 39, looking over from a hotel window
Wondering if one should jump off or go to sleep
People tell you up is better than down
They never tell you which is up and which is down

Age 39, looking over from a hotel window
95-pound bundle, but it's trouble when there's nowhere to leave
People say stardust and golddust are it
But they never tell you it chokes you just as sawdust does

Age 39, feeling pretty suicidal
The weight gets heavier when you've bled thirty years
Show me your blood, John, and I'll show you mine
They say it's running even when we're asleep

No trace of resentment, no trace of regret
One blood's thinner but both look red and fresh
If I ever die, please go to my daughter
Tell her that she used to haunt me in my dreams
(that's saying a lot for a neurotic like me.)
Age 39, looking over from my hotel window
Trying to tackle away with heart of clay
The weight gets lighter when there's nowhere to turn
God's little dandruff floating in the air

Age 39, looking over the world
Age 39, floating over the world
Age 39,...mm-mm...floating along