Rolling Days

Smells like a disease
In the room where I must sleep
The sheets are brown and fleece and make me
Sweat it out, sweat it out, sweat it

Who could love this mess
Who could love this dirty dress
Faded eyes, a hopeless case of
Work it out, work it out, work it out
Better work it out, work it out, work it out

Just another one of those rolling days
Where half the town is high
Just another spring, then summer gone
This summer, where was I

I wait for the last call
And the time when you’ll arrive
Waiting for the prize

Homely soft-sheet chicks
With childbearing hips
Where has all the glamour gone
It never was, never was, never was

Is it really what you want
A bag of bones, no blood
Seems that all the betrothed folks are
Homely girls, lovely girls, homely girls
Lovely girls, homely girls, lovely girls

Just another one of those rolling days
Where half the town is high
Just another spring, then summer gone
This summer, where was I

I wait for the last call
And the time when you’ll arrive
Waiting for the prize
Better work it out, work it out, work it out
Better work it out, work it out, work it out