[Lyric] Old (Quiet Pedestrian)

Grey are the frames that slow my cognition
Gears collect rust in my hazy condition
I feel as drained as faulty pipe systems
Leaking my waste, gee sure looks like wisdom

It's raining it's pouring, the old man is snoring
He bumped his head on top of the bed
And couldn't get up in the morning

Kids kick their balls past my fence, makes me cynical
What's this remote, analog over digital
Say rocking chair and I'm reading newspapers
These media posts, say what's a pager?

It's raining it's pouring, the old man is snoring
He bumped his head on top of the bed
And couldn't gеt up in the morning