This, this is not a band You, you are not a fan No one can tell a man How to use his hands Dig, dig this little song (dust it off, put it on) No one can tell you how (to return to a burnin' town) Why's the view so wrong If everyone was already gone? Now that I'm old, where do my hands go? I have been told, If you're not careful You'll never find a way home You're gonna spin out of control Hear, hear the way the players change (me when I reach the end of my range) When I sing I think of my limitations (in my dreams I still got the Hesitation) Lately I was wrong Maybe this is just a song The same coin when you feel that you can really love That's the main point can you feel it can you really love My head is stuck in sand There is no ocean There is no band I am stranded Now that I'm old, where do my hands go? I have been told, if you're not careful You'll never find a way home You're gonna spin out of control I remember hovering (Stop that dancing, you start shoveling) I remember floating (Stop pining, stop gloating) So Hold me just a little bit longer No That sinking feeling is getting stronger