Light a fire, burn up all you know You've had time time time Time to let this go, but Now you're burning letters out there in the snow in your backyard Don't the years go rolling you're thirty-three It is time for the cross Time for the Bodhi Tree But still you'd like to cry every time you skin your knee Because it's hard It's the same old friends on New Years Eve The same snow falls on the same old leaves And there's the same old joy, and there's the same old hurt Same old corduroy shirt Old storm windows and the broke-tail squirrel And the grocery lists and the skateboard girls And your rusty brain cells they give you a twirl Oh no Kitchen radio, I got coffee on I could use a month or two or three to lean up on But still the open road wants to get me gone So off I go Well it's the same old jar of car keys by the door It's the same old scuffed up floor And it's the same old thirst for more until they put me in the dirt Oh it's the same old nights alone And it's the same old "baby when will you be coming home?" Don't you want to feel the same old joy, feel the same old hurt? Same old corduroy shirt Same old corduroy shirt