I'm just sitting counting all the cobwebs

And wondering just when you'll come along

You said that you'd be here an hour ago

But an hour ago is hours ago from then



No, and I don't know what to do

I'm drawing crazy patterns on my shoe

And the sand in the hour glass slips on by



Light another cigarette, watch the burning glow

Catching spiders in my hand, and then I let them go

Imagine pictures on the wall, watch the insects where they crawl

They don't care about you and I've nothing to do



Maybe the bus didn't get there on time

Maybe the train doesn't run on that line for some reason

And she might not come

Because she doesn't want to see you again

No no no, that can't be true

And I've got nothing to do