Strange fascination, end of the day
Roots are tired and uninspired
Two thousand records won’t play any more
Always had the time
Taped VCR news and old ripped pics
There’s too much red in the room
There’s too much red
There’s too much red in the room
You seem to always come on over just a little too soon
Matchbox cars and plastic guitars
And the twelve bar blues brigade
You seem to always come on over just a little too soon
Your pocket was torn from a fist full of chords
And the best one’s got away
Basement’s got a smell, but I like it that way
Obsessive compulsive relentlessly frosted
TV shows with no conversation seem to make the time
creep slow
I’m waiting around
From place to place to place
There’s too much red in the room
There’s too much red
There’s too much red in the room
Yea yea yea
You seem to always come on over just a little too soon
Matchbox cars and plastic guitars
And the twelve bar blues brigade
You seem to always come on over just a little too soon
Your pocket was torn from a fist full of chords
The best one’s got away