Sweaty hands, reduced precision
Waiting on the fan with the slow rotation
Frayed starter cord and rusty nail heads
Crud between the boards and musty cobwebs
Everything you've got that isn't busted yet
Is wearing down every time you use it
What an ugly thought I was thinking
Gripped by a fear of no discernible beginning

Hammering down is how I've been getting through
Strong-arming life is my bonehead tried and true
No fixing it for good, but there could be just enough
It's running today, and maybe that's long enough
What an ugly thought I was thinking
Both of us showing zero signs of relеnting
I'm usually lost, and I've got precious little finеsse
But I'm still the boss, I'm still tougher than the rest