MAN OF MY TIME

I have slept in New York City, thirty floors above the streets
And I’ve waited for the morning on Sahara’s sandy dunes
I’ve sipped white wine in first class, thousands feet above the sea
But I never found a drink to wash away the thirst in me

I’m a man of my time, just a man of my time

There are days I’m so depressed I can barely say my name
Then there’s others when I want to fight so much I can’t sit still
I have taken those directions that don’t lead you anywhere
And my life felt like a sailboat floating still without the wind

I’m a man of my time, just a man of my time

There are times I feel so proud of the precious things I own
But my car, my clothes, my coffee: can’t you feel their smell of blood
And I hate you mister Bush for the lies you told your crowds
For the thousands lives you’ve shattered just to please your father’s friends

I’m a man of my time, just a man of my time