Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider & Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
Bob Schneider
The hours and days stack up in the mirror
And it's been so long since your favorite year
And you’re riding off into the night
And you're climbing the wall of your life
And you're trying with all your might
To hold on
And the cops are trying to pull you over
But you’re not pulling over
And the stewardess is giving you her number
But the plane is taking off with the doors wide open
And your clothes are stained with something
Is that food? What the hell is that?
And you're naked and it's raining
And you're standing there holding a sword made of gold
And you feel like you're falling
'Cause you're falling
Falling
And your wife is asking you
If you've heard a word of what she’s been saying
And you turn to her
And lie
And you are dreaming you are dying
And you are dreaming and you are dying
And you are dreaming
And you are dying
And you are dreaming