Perfect Timing

Here I am again perfect timing,

The strings are ringing and the words are rhyming

I used to hate the fool in me, but only in the morning

Now I tolerate him all day long

Out on the highway, I hear the moaning

That low and lonesome whisper,

You only know from longing,

Through those naked trees at the windows glowing orange,

Taking over that cold shoulder racing by

I might have known before

If I'd got this old before I thought I got too cool to give a damn

That who you see in dreams at night seem to spend their afterlives

Trying hard to live the last one down

Here I am again perfect timing,

The strings are ringing and the words are rhyming

I used to hate the fool in me, but only in the morning,

Now I tolerate him all day long