This Blessed Contraption

This blessed contraption
This cursed machine
A box full of distraction
Of plywood and string
When all the books have been written
And all the songs have been sung
And all the girls have been smitten
And all the strings have been strummed
You’ll find me leaving the old songs for dead
And walking around in my head
My head on a pillow
My pillow in your bed
Leaving the old songs for dead
To say I cut my loses
Would be a little untrue
I cut my gains
Before I lost you
And to my comrades in arms
Still fighting the fight
You’ll be storming the beaches
Without me tonight
You’ll find me leaving the old songs for dead
And walking around in my head
My head on a pillow
My pillow in your bed
Leaving the old songs for dead
The stars that once guided us, are now just city lights
Gone is the old guard, no more contraband, no more endless nights
Five bands for five dollars is a thing of the past to us now
Four of the bands probably played for free anyhow
Anyhow
You’ll find me leaving the old songs for dead
And walking around in my head
My head on a pillow
My pillow in your bed
Leaving the old songs for dead