Seen Better Days

"They've said it every year but this times it seems like
The end is near and I'm in line to see the light
How far does this black tunnel go?
I got a car but the gas is running low
And as long as i've known the bumps and creaks of this house
It's starting to make the types of sounds that only comes from people's mouths
You can't tell me it's still settling
Built on an indian burial ground, killing everything
The childhood scar on my chin is back again
That old jump over my own leg dance move has to end
I've seen better days in my night terrors
I was a bike messenger without a bike and I would write letters
Ask directions to your whereabouts
Before the slow walk the rest of the show-offs were peeling out
Too many hares, only one tortoise
That's why I left this city, too fast paced for this ho-hum tourist
By the time I developed the pictures
They're as blurry as my memory of constant life fixtures"