There were 87 Advil in the bottle, now there's 30 left
I ate 47 so what happened to the other ten?
Why do you suspiciously change the subject and break my concentration
As I dump the bottle out and I count the Advil up again?
Don't interupt me as I struggle to complete this thought
Have some respect for someone more forgetful than yourself
And I'm not done, and I
Won't be till my head falls off
Feeling every pocket on my shirt, pants and overcoat
And I'm hitting them again but I don't know where I put my notes
Clearing my throat and gripping the lectern
I smile and face my audience
Clearing his throat and smiling with his hands on the bathroom sink
And when I lean my head against the frosted shower stall
I see stuff through the glass that I don't recognize at all
And I'm not done, and I
Won't be till my head falls off
Though it may not be a long way off
I'm not done talking
I'm not done talking
And when I lean my head against the frosted shower stall
I see a broken figure sillouetted on the wall
And I'm not done, and I
Won't be till my head falls off
Though it may not be a long way off
I won't be done until my head falls off |