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Brock Zeman
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Season of Sleep
It's hurry, hurry, hurry, it's rush, rush, rush
I feel like a dog that's been whipped too much
I just wanna lay down
Lay down and die somewhere
But roll on little doggies mush, mush, mush
Just keep on wading through this muck
Until you fall face down and run out of air
I could use some sleep and a pretty dream
I'm dead on my feet, oh I feel like I'm sinking
I can do a little dance and I can shine your shoes
I can sing a little song for some gas and booze
Just like a little puppet, but who the hell's pulling the strings?
Ha, ha! Life's a joke but nobody's laughing
Trying to carve out a living unpacking and packing
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Well go on funny boy, get on up there and sing
I could use some sleep and a pretty dream
I'm dead on my feet, oh I feel like I'm sinking
Oh good lord, cut the telephone cord
And board up the door
I need a season of sleeping
Simon says sit, and Simon says stand
Simon says sing, now get in the van
But Simon didn't say, too bad you're out
The motor's got a fever and the brakes are screaming
And the gas tank's thirsty and the oil needs changing
I'm just praying this wreck will get us home somehow
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