Middle Of The Week

Good times in the airport lobby
Chaos subdued everywhere
Counting all the people in my hair
Everybody treats it as a dare

After all the bad decisions
Someone tells me what to do
Why don't I lay down and cease to move?
I waste so much irony on you

A sea of hands out there to hold
There couldn't be a better world
Could my own hand be more cold?
Impossible

Sometimes it's awful hard to take
The way you speak on Saturdays
When in the middle of the week
I see what kind of friend you make

Looking back on my collection
Rings I've fished out of the well
Each one has another lie to tell

So many hands out there to bite
You shouldn't spend any more time
Could you keep up if you tried?
You shouldn't try

Sometimes it's awful hard to take
The way you speak on Saturdays
When in the middle of the week
I see what kind of friend you make