There was a man that knew too much With a panic attack mind but a chance to numb His golden touch to ignore the will of time Had me struck down, open to the fact I was standing in a line with a broken occupation on my back
[Chorus] Time is not a moment we're letting slip away There's nothing left to say; it's changing every day The way I'm thinking - in different shades of gray It's not enough to say that this is my love
He had the anti-midas touch Temporary state of mind But a chance to die enhances growth Now I'm trembling all the time Stumble 'round, making faces on the scene Scene what, what Stumble 'round, make your faces on your own
I'm not your mocking bird That sings your cellar song She got a paper run You're compensated
Can we all gather round on the scene? Can we all move around on our own? Are ya a mover, shaker all alone?
[Chorus] Time is not a moment we're letting slip away There's nothing left to say but this is my love
I'm not your mocking bird That sings your cellar song She got a paper run to write your letters wrong