Not even close to it,
even as the crow flies carrying twigs for a nest in some memory tree
We
are not even close to the blossom of youth

in the gypsy booth where fortunes are hung on the minds of the gullible
the truth is sometimes foretold

but it's a cold Tennessee and blue mountains are all that
We
get.

I'm slicing up soldiers to dip in my egg because I'm violent at breakfast
We
**** or we cure all or bounce off a padded wall,
same thing in the end

Life drives us 'round the bend and I wanted a Maserati
to outrun the paparazzi
I guess that they'll just extradite me
We
can't even go on the run

I blame Billy the Kid for getting rid of so many lawmen leaving the door man
who's decrepit
to let in the faithful

If I'm tired and trimming my beard
if I'm crazy or senile or just a bit weird
it makes no difference to me
We
take it on the chin, in our stride,
electric shock?
I nearly died

and they fried some brain matter,
a part of the memory scattered forever

and they think they're so ****** clever
We
don't need a college degree
We
can see what's coming

the era of the dumbing down
the status rectified
more brain matter fried

I'm slicing up soldiers and soldiering on until the morning arrives when all the soldiers have gone and then there'll be a war
We
already saw that.