I'm good to go For something golden Though the motions I've been going through have failed And I'm coasting on potential towards a wall At a 100 miles an hour When I say
Two more weeks My foot is in the door (yeah) I can't sleep In the wake of Saturday (Saturday) Saturday When these open doors were open-ended Saturday When these open doors were open-ended
Pete and I attacked the lost Astoria* with promise and precision and mess of youthful innocence And I read about the afterlife But I never really lived more than an hour (more than an hour) When I say
Two more weeks My foot is in the door (yeah) I can't sleep In the wake of Saturday (Saturday) Saturday When these open doors were open-ended Saturday When these open doors were open-ended