| Don't know if your carin' truth is worth tearin' | |
| Though we're miles apart | |
| Front door leavin's the way I've been feelin' | |
| Twenty days overboard | |
| That's the way the hinge turns, just half way round | |
| Believe it all first, finally flickers out | |
| No mood anymore, hold up, hammer down the stake | |
| No more parades | |
| Got to know a friend with a think tank | |
| And a farm and you couldn't ask for better | |
| Works on dreams inside of her schemes | |
| Lives like the words in a song | |
| That's the way the hinge turns, just half way round | |
| Believe it all first, finally flickers out | |
| No mood anymore, hold up, hammer down the stake | |
| No more parades | |
| A pesticide moon hangs cold coffee | |
| And tears flowin' out of the brain | |
| Shoulda caught the bus, shoulda pulled in line | |
| Shoulda made up for that down time | |
| That's the way the hinge turns, just half way round | |
| Believe it all first, finally flickers out | |
| No mood anymore, hold up, hammer down the stake | |
| No more parades |
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