I sit at this table and I stare at my hands.
Everyday they go to look up,
Their more like my dads.
And I trace these veins that run up and down my arms.
From where I'm sitting, I trace sixty more years.
And I've learned to count on nothing,
Cause most times its all I've got.
And all I see is me, my roots are starting to ride.

All you wanna do is win when your losing.
You say you want some competition,
Well I'm not that strong.
Just put away your ladder, I'm happy where I am.
My fate seems clear to me man,
Its out of my hands.

And sometimes I feel like a genius, other times I feel like a fool.
My friends indulge me, but most times I think I know it all.
But mostly I feel like a little boy,
I'd rather feel pain than show fear.
I don't wanna make excuses..
But my horoscope said it would be a bad year.
Sometimes I see myself getting killed,
On one of these big scary streets.
And then I'd have nothing to live up to,
And no expectations to me.

All you wanna do is win when your losing.
You say you want some competition,
Well I'm not that strong.
Just put away your ladder, I'm happy where I am.
My fate seems clear to me man,
Its out of my hands.