I played your game before learning the rules,
Touched the stovetop when I thought it was cool.
I repeated your words, but I missed all the hints
Trying not to believe it was all common sense.
And I'm tired of waiting to know what you meant.
But it's something like a lightning strike, I hear.
I've been chasing my tail, but I won't get far
Before I'm wearing my Sunday best to the bar.
I'm three spins away from giving in to the urge
Of joining the gamblers playing hooky from church.
And I'm tired of waiting on a reason to search.
But it's something like a lightning strike, I hear.
There's a spot on my chest I've been diggin a hole
Hoping I'd reach the bottom and discover my soul.
On Christmas I took a chainsaw to the tree,
But when I yell timber, it fell down on me.
And I'm tired of waiting, expecting to see.
But it's something like a lightning strike, I hear.
You could tell I was sick, so you sent me a nurse.
Was it really my fault when I said it was hers?
We dug our own well in the ground that you cursed.
Now it's drying up and we're dying of thirst.
And I'm tired of waiting for the line I rehearse
To feel like you really did give me the words.
I'll keep on repeating that I'm not the first.
But it's something like a lightning strike I hear.
