Soles are worn out in my tennis shoes

mother please carry me home

the process of progress is killing me (now i can't go on)

someone please carry me home


and my cold feet slow me down

they haunt me now...


Claim to subclaim, now turn it off

i'm doing the best that i can

Act for react, now turn it off

i'm doing the best that i can


could i be losing the will to walk?

maybe it's time to run

and Madison's where i will build my name (from the bottom up)

where i will work in the sun


and the science slows me down

but i'm free now...


Claim to subclaim, now turn it off

i'm doing the best that i can

Broken finger, now burn it off

i'm doing the best that i can


shedding the smile i used to wear

(left alone to my despair)

learning how not to let it break my stride

casting my tennis shoes aside

(missing what was left behind)

a dead man is plotting his return tonight


burn, let me feel the burn,

i'm lighting a match to all i've known

think, i just want to think,

but this could have been a pauper's parade


Claim to subclaim, now turn it off

i'm doing the best that i can

Blood on my hands, now wash it off

i'm doing the best that i can