Hollow

"More and more and more she said

On a flat-back Tuesday in the wintertime

When you were ten miles gone and flying high

Not minding you could not even see the ground

Dropshot and deep-six of a little king

Oh your mind blank now with the turn of her back

On everything you too quickly gave up too soon

To be salvaged but it's alright

It's the same old thing

It's the old familiar rythm

Of your hollow heart

So hasty heart hangs now on every word and motion

Thought and action rolling from her hands

Saying what she said and what she did really matters

In the simple fact that I am nothing more than an

Open-hearted, heavy-handed dreamer of a man

Who wanted not much today-not ever

Wanted not much ever but just enough to get by awhile

And feel a little bit more than alright

It's the same old thing

It's the old familiar rythm

Of your hollow heart"