Her Space Holiday
The Truth Hurts So This Should Be Painless
Other night as I lay asleep
I woke to the sound of the telephone ring
Reached for the line I tried to be brave
'Cause only trouble would call that late
It could've been the whiskey it could've been the coke
Either way he was losin' his hope
He asked me do I sit and think
About the things I do and what they mean
I said "in life we all got a choice
You gotta find your song you gotta use your voice
Hold your breath and count to three
If you know the words sing along with me."

Which side are you on my friend?
Which side are you on?
You've grown your life in the shallow grave;
Hold it up to the sun
We all wish we were younger then, so we would have an excuse
Shut our mouths in the virgin banes; in the lies of a hundred years
Just another lonely evening
What a waste of a Saturday night
Just another early Sunday?s coming
Everything looks different in the light

It's common sense of history
From the notes we sing to the books we read
From the writer's pen to the dancer's feet
Somewhere in the middle we all meet
It's a tragic tale of industry
From the wars we wage in the name of peace
From a child's laugh to a soldier's fear
Somewhere in the moment we all share
It's a nagging wave of urgency
You and I have to change these things
Or the ground will break beneath our feet
Swallow up you and me and everything

Truth hurts so this should be painless
All you'll feel is a pinch in your spine
From the place where the rosin bombs were
Before you went and had a good time
Devil has so many faces
Never know which one he?s hidin? behind
?Till the two of you take of your clothes
Tell each other the sweetest lines
Just another lonely evening
What a waste of a Saturday night
Just another early Sunday?s coming
Everything looks different in the light

Which side are you on my friend?
Which side are you on?
You've grown your life in the shallow grave;
Hold it up to the sun
We all wish we were younger then, so we would have an excuse
Shut our mouths in the virgin banes; in the lies of a hundred years
Just another lonely evening
What a waste of a Saturday night
Just another early Sunday?s coming
Everything looks different in the light