Hollow

"More and more and more she said
 On a flat-back Tuesday in the wintertime
 When you were ten miles gone and flying high
 Not minding you could not even see the ground
 Dropshot and deep-six of a little king
 Oh your mind blank now with the turn of her back
 On everything you too quickly gave up too soon
 To be salvaged but it's alright
 It's the same old thing
 It's the old familiar rythm
 Of your hollow heart
 So hasty heart hangs now on every word and motion
 Thought and action rolling from her hands
 Saying what she said and what she did really matters
 In the simple fact that I am nothing more than an
 Open-hearted, heavy-handed dreamer of a man
 Who wanted not much today-not ever
 Wanted not much ever but just enough to get by awhile
 And feel a little bit more than alright
 It's the same old thing
 It's the old familiar rythm
 Of your hollow heart"