I've come to fear from experience I won't overwrite
What it's like to be the coward in a losing fight
When you're middle class, man, you can fear what you feel
And you can get a guitar and keep spinning your wheels

So in a final appeal
To my God through the chatter
I'll keep spinning my wheels
Soon none of this will matter

I've come to fear from a theory that's a touch overripe
What it's like to go on talking past the love of your life
When the rot sets in and the siding corrodes
You feign solace in your aggrieved children

Just so it's clear to enumerators who's next in line
Two Les Pauld and a Tele under the used sign
No more middle class man talking about how he feels
No more dreaded guitar, no more spinning the wheels

So in a final appeal
To my God through the chatter
I'll keep spinning my wheels
In a final appeal
To my God through the chatter
I'll keep spinning my wheels
Soon none of this will matter