Pulley

I don't plan anything
I'm trying to come home
Thoughts of you are always on my
mind
A runaway from problems, my excuse
when I am there
You roll over - once again I'm gone
It's old, it's plain to see this life of
tragedy
Save it for later - that's what we always
said
What will that do for us?
What will they do for us?
What will they do for us now?
Tried to paint a picture of the times
that we once shared
Never seemed to be so concerned
The story goes like this...
You say I'm almost never there
Independence is what you want
An arm to hold on, someone to sleep
next to in the night
Rolling over - once again I'm gone
Look through the backlog, an index
of thoughts
This time it won't get to me
What will they do for us?
What will they do for us?
What will they do for us now?
I tried to paint a picture of the time
we once shared
Never seemed to be so concerned
(And I don't plan anything
I'm never comin' home
Thoughts of you are on my mind
So I'm never gone...)
What will they do for us?