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Soles are worn out in my tennis shoes
Mother please carry me home
The process of progress is killing me (now i can't go on)
Someone please carry me home
And my cold feet slow me down
They haunt me now...
Claim to subclaim, now turn it off
I'm doing the best that I can
Act for react, now turn it off
I'm doing the best that I can
Could I be losing the will to walk?
Maybe it's time to run
And madison's where i will build my name (from the bottom up)
Where I will work in the sun
And the science slows me down
But I'm free now...
Claim to subclaim, now turn it off
I'm doing the best that I can
Broken finger, now burn it off
I'm doing the best that I can
Shedding the smile I used to wear
(left alone to my despair)
Learning how not to let it break my stride
Casting my tennis shoes aside
(missing what was left behind)
A dead man is plotting his return tonight
Burn, let me feel the burn,
I'm lighting a match to all i've known
Think, i just want to think,
But this could have been a pauper's parade
Claim to subclaim, now turn it off
I'm doing the best that i can
Blood on my hands, now wash it off
I'm doing the best that i can