Postcards from a Midwestern Salesman

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Dayroom

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When the chairman of the board retires
I’ll be fifty-one and everyone I know will be old and dried up 
Headed off to Disney World
I’ll be staying in this place where I don’t belong

Relax there’s not a story to tell
I spent the last three days in a run-down motel
My life in my hands while I’m watching it slip through my fingers

When I find the time to write out a letter
I could tell her all the things I could do so much better 
With some time to spare
But for now I say hey this is good enough

Relax, there’s not a story to tell
I spent the last three days in a run-down motel
My life in my hands and I’m watching it slip through my fingers

So round it goes and I don’t know
Why I’m standing here in the freezing cold
My feet are numb, my clothes are old
I got here late but I guess you know that
Times have changed, I missed the boat
Maybe that goes to show you know, that 
One more man singing about broken hearts 
Is never gonna change the world
I’m never gonna change the world

Relax there’s not a story to tell
I spent the last three days in a rind-down motel
My life in my hands and I’m watching it slip through my fingers

When I’m old and on my way through Ohio
I might turn around and head off for the wild wide ocean
Where I’m happier
Instead of staying in this place where I don’t belong

Relax there’s not a story to tell
I spent the last three days in a run-down motel
My life in my hands and I’m watching it pass by the window
So I
Get up it’s time wake up and leave
Put my bag on my back and my heart on my sleeve
I’ll head out the door to the road and what I left behind me

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