What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.
G.E. Woodberry
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Wasting Time
I'm wasting time
Thinking about a girl
And stealing her away
From her world
She and I would run away
I think of all the things that I'd say
We'd talk about important things
And I picture it in my dreams
She'd teach me
About modern art
And I'd show her
It's OK to fart and
Maybe I'd impress her
By being in a band and
Maybe if I act real tough
She'd let me hold her hand and
Maybe I'll win her heart
By writing this song about her
Sometimes I sit at home and
Wonder if she's sitting at home
Thinking of me and
Wondering if I'm
Sitting at home,
Thinking about her
Or am I just wasting my time
Remembering how
She laughed at Kinko's
When I made fun of that guy
Remembering the look
She gave me
When I told her that
I used to fly
I really want to ask her out
But my ego could never take it
And even if I got the balls
You know that the Cougar
Would never make it
And in my town
You can't drive naked
And maybe I'd impress her
By being in a band and
Maybe if I act real tough
She'd let me hold her hand and
Maybe I'll win her heart
By writing this song about her
Sometimes I sit at home and
Wonder if she's sitting at home
Thinking of me and
Wondering if I'm
Sitting at home,
Thinking about her
Or am I just wasting my time
Am I just wasting my time
Wasting my time
Thinking about a girl