I told you I'm lost with what's happening We both guess and make plans and adjust And then wake up again Some kind of recalibration of daylight The morning felt hopeful and the evening not Was the weather so fine, until it stopped Don't pretend, you ain't got some Sixth sense of creeping dread The more I know, the less I understand But don't worry, worry Hands in a hurry Tomorrow, always comes The Sunday before the Monday, a write-off, ruined Catch me when I say I'll get back to you I've got phony anxieties, leaping around the plot There's a light that blinds and heads for the shade And when I waiver, she always saves There's something beyond my Hard facts and her soft feels The more I know, the less I understand But don't worry, worry Hands in a hurry Tomorrow, always comes The more I know, the less I understand But don't worry, worry Hands in a hurry Tomorrow, always comes