Torn and frayed on a Sunday, and you can not help but feel ashamed. You used to feel pride about all these wasted nights, now you only feel afraid.
There’s lots of people I remember, and there’s lots of them gone away. Sometimes I’ll go days without seeing a friendly face, I wonder if they ever think of me.
But it’s alright, alright, alright as long as we stay, just hanging around in this muddy old town watching as the river washes our past away.
There’s lots of places I remember, and there’s lots of things that have changed, chase us underground then they tear the building down, then put up condos in their place.
There used to be a wind in December, it would cut you just like a blade, on the after-work bus with the windows fogging up, you can feel yourself growing older every day.
But it’s alright, alright, alright as long as we stay, just hanging around in this muddy old town watching as the river washes our past away.
It’s alright, baby, whenever you need me you can call me, it will be alright. I’ve been thinking about the sound that all the poor boys make from underground, whenever you need me, you can call me, it will be alright. Alright.
