"More and More and More She Said 
On a Flat-back Tuesday in the Wintertime 
When You Were Ten Miles Gone and Flying High 
Not Minding You Could Not Even See the Ground 

Dropshot and Deep-six of a Little King 
Oh Your Mind Blank Now With the Turn of Her Back 
On Everything You Too Quickly Gave Up Too Soon 
To Be Salvaged But It's Alright 

It's the Same Old Thing 
It's the Old Familiar Rythm 
Of Your Hollow Heart 

So Hasty Heart Hangs Now On Every Word and Motion 
Thought and Action Rolling From Her Hands 
Saying What She Said and What She Did Really Matters 
In the Simple Fact That I Am Nothing More Than An 
Open-hearted, Heavy-handed Dreamer of a Man 
Who Wanted Not Much Today-not Ever 
Wanted Not Much Ever But Just Enough to Get By Awhile 
And Feel a Little Bit More Than Alright 

It's the Same Old Thing 
It's the Old Familiar Rythm 
Of Your Hollow Heart"