Lyrics
The story it grows older
The story is no story here
I never knew what it is
And there's no sign of it ending
As I am in and ought to be
They're telling me I am
They're telling me I am
They're telling me...
I am
Bowling race car driver
Superficial hitman you're
On the list at every door
You don't bowl or race fast cars
Composition, competition, you drive
Just because I don't go
To the church where you reside
I might as well forget it
The nineties won't be back again
Until i'm forty-eight years old
I can be the hungry
As I eat my words again
Appealing yet apalling
Rising to my falling
I'm going to extreme ends
I'm gagging on their scene
I'm gagging on their scene
I'm gagging on...
Their scene
Bowling race car driver
Superficial hitman you're
On the list at every door
You don't bowl or race fast cars
Composition competition, you shift
I'm the driver
Over time in it's defense
I move their car
And for a moment it makes sense
But I fail them in the end
I fail them in the end
In the arms of old age
Knowing only one to lose
Feeling nothing more to hide
Consider life a forgery
As you're gagging on your scene
Admit to fraudulence
Driven to this thought
Death is certain
Faith is not
Bowling race car driver
Superficial hitman you're
On the list at every door
You don't bowl or race fast cars
Composition competition, you drive
Competition, competition, I'm losing
I fail it in the end
I fail it in the end
