Horns Lyrics

the old man is sitting at home
struggling with all that he knows
basically moving ahead of himself
and everyone else is going back
and he's fishing all night at the well
but there are no compliments here
ther's gotta be more than that
when the mornong comes
the bright august lights
burn in his eyes
and he's all that is left
wandering around
wandering around
wandering around
wandering around