Same Old

Stumbling down the road
I don’t waste time looking back
But, the past is like a dog
with an unforgettable bone
…just wont give it up or let it go

And not that any of it matters
They say I am where I’m supposed to be;
according to the universe,
biorhythms and time charts,
even the tide flow

So, if all of that is true – set in some kind of cosmic stone;
here on borrowed time, here on loan

Why do my shoes feel too tight
and my close don’t fit quite right
and I’m uncomfortable in my own skin

Why can’t I sit back, relax and just breathe it all in
Is this the way the story goes, some unsettled some untold

I always have a sense I have a lot more to say
and nothing ever feels the same, in a same old kind of way

Nothing ever feels the same, in a same old kind of way