All busted ties. So I know the hero dies. Have I got dust in my eyes, or am I too old to cry? Find my head. I am too wired to sleep and too tired to make my bed. Sick of treadin' the same line. I held it in, But I am fine if they tape me trying to escape my skin. And I heard a song Tangled up like a giant, but I could not hear him fall. Cold whistle blown, But I heard laughter, And I should have known when I heard drums; Old skin and bone, lay down beside me 'til the cavalry comes.