Slow
On a Friday
I sit in the room
In my head there's a tune
And I feel defeated

By the speed machine
And the social scene
I keep on waiting for something to happen

I am slow
And it’s high time I am slowed down
To feel the cost of all my movement

Next to the stoop
There's a ring of grass where nothing else will grow
It's a precious thing
Finding life in the dead zone

People are always walking
Across the tracks behind our building
There’s always a feeling
That so much is happenin'
I am slow
And it's high time I am slowed down
To feel the cost of all my movement

That's enough, stop and stare
Long enough into the glare
Cut it out, don't fill it up
Cut it out, don't fill it up

I am slow
And it's high time I am slowed down
To feel the cost of all my movement

I am slow
And it's high time I am slowed down
To feel the cost of all my movement

Woah-oh-oh

I am slow
(Messin’ up, stop and stare)
And it’s high time I am slowed down
(long enough into the glare)
To feel the cost of all my movement
(cut it out, don't fill it up)
(cut it out, don’t fill it up)