40 Winks to Wyoming

The threadbare cloth sucks my skin on an April morning

Kicking the small joys of a sick child into tarmac

Whilst my eyeballs map the State of Wyoming

I yearn to be a newborn drunk on cognac

Chorus

40,40,40, 40 Winks feels like 40,40,40,40 weeks ago

The caffeine tickles the grooves at the built up junction

Whilst I stand to cheer on the road of rat racers

Each thought a la secondes for the spotlight

Infront of a crowd of absent minded fathers

Chorus

40,40,40,40 Winks feels like 40,40,40,40 Weeks ago

And still my leg hair's merely a prickle

Threads of cotton resisting the grapple

40,40,40 weeks ago

40,40,40, 40 Winks feels like 40,40,40,40 Weeks ago

And still my leg hair's merely a prickle

Threads of cotton resisting the grapple

40,40,40 weeks ago