The story it grows older   The story is no story here   I never knew what it is   There's no sign of it ending   As I am it and ought to be   They're telling me I am      Bowling racecar driver   Superficial hitman   You're on the list at every door   You don't bowl or race fast cars   Composition competition, you drive      Just because I don't go   To the church where you reside   I might as well forget it   The nineties won't be back again   Til I'm 48 years old      I can be the hungry   As I eat my words again   Appealing yet appalling   Rising to my falling   Going to extreme ends, I am gagging on this scene      Bowling racecar driver   Superficial hitman   You're on the list at every door   You don't bowl or race fast cars   Composition competition, you shift      I'm the driver   Over time in its defence   I moved their car   And for a moment it made sense   But I fail them in the end   I fail it in the end      In the arms of old age   Knowing only one to lose   Feeling nothing more to hide   Consider life a forgery   As you're swimming in this stream, admit to fraudulence   Driven to thought, resigned to go that way      Bowling racecar driver   Superficial hitman   You're on the list at every door   You don't bowl or race fast cars   Composition competition, you drive   Composition competition, I'm losing      I fail them in the end   I fail it in the end