I'm growing old in rooms Full of kids with unruly hair cuts Taking what comfort we can in the fact That every empire's days are numbered...man But I don't think that I can count that high I should have paid better attention in school or something Because I feel like there's something that I don't know And if I could just jam it into my skull I could stand to live somehow But I don't know The fact is I'm 2.7 decades into a growing ambivalence I could count on no hands how many f**s I'm giving Or is it a million? Are "god" and "void" equivalent? Are we making total destroy Or just making a living? And I know that Rome wasn't burnt in a day But it couldn't have been more than a week And I know that the children of barbarians Become the new tax collectors and priests So I don't know I suppose we've been rolling since the world was round And time makes dust of what we can't tear down And I suppose dead bodies make soil of the ground But what about what we do now? I'm growing old in rooms Full of kids with unruly hair cuts Taking what comfort we can in the fact That every empire's days are numbered...man But I don't think that I can count that high