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Turn back the clock and win an hour of time
That you just waste on yellowed pages
And tell the pictures you've been misunderstood
So long, so wrong
You've been so good
But then your passionate pride defiles your pity with guilt
And so you push it inside
Oh, break me like a rock
I sit here alone with myself and my song
Building brand-new lies
To convince myself that you were wrong
You crack the blinds and let the afternoon clouds
Soak the room in shadow
And drown your eyes with lovelorn juvenile tears
So old, grown cold
Since those young years
Oh, break me like a rock
I sit here alone with myself and my song
Building brand-new lies
To convince myself that you were wrong
All words and music © 1990 Redundant Steaks
 Back to Buster Crabbe, the Rock
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