I will make myself
A mile from the racetrack
Drag my losses home
It kills me not to go back

And we float with parasites
All our lives

There's me with the geriatrics at the slot machines
There's me, the embodiment of how slow life can be
There's me, dead eyes are glowing
There's me, mine are always shut

Passed out on the road
Just hours from the racetrack
Saw Lamotta raise a toast
He said "You got me with the right jab"

And we float with parasites all our lives
With this advice - we learn until we're dead
Be losers 'til your sanguine thoughts subside, we learn until we're dead
A fallen dream's not just a morbid sign, it's opportunity

These days I find beauty as depressing as years beyond my time
If I could make this old heart young again, I'd find
Another topic to drone on, a more fashionable vice to lean on
Some better words to speak on that escaped my younger form