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See that long line of people who keep standing in the rain |
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Lookin' tired, gettin' cold |
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And that signal light they're waiting for, don't ever seem to change |
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Killing time, ain't it slow |
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Watch them bending with the burden of the pennies that they save |
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Marking time, growin' old |
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Slowly marching by the numbers to the freedom of the grave |
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Killing time, ain't it slow |
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That's the closest thing to living that they're ever gonna know |
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And their good times ain't no better than their bad |
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'Cause they think they need a signal light to tell them they can go |
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Killing time, ain't it sad |
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Don't feel sorry for those people who keep standing in the rain |
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They don't mind, they don't know |
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'Cause it never crossed their minds they got a reason to complain |
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Killing time, ain't it slow |
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They're not haunted by the visions that they never dared to see |
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And they'll never miss the dreams they've never had |
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They're condemned to go on living in a penitentiary |
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For killing time, ain't it sad |
