Counting Down the Hours

Innocence, it don't come easy - in a sense it never will
Accidents mean no one's guilty; ignorance means someone's killed
So I asked our Mr. Mellor how to get to where one's going
And he points to his survival, and he points me down the road
As I go on
Wondering if I've got a soul and
Counting down the hours 'til it goes
On a dark wet night in April, on a street in Jersey where
I went looking for some writing that I knew would not be there
And a punter from the Pelhams and the police, in the rain
Were concerned more with a car than with the fact the light had changed
But after listening all morning, as I drove down 95
To a story of detainees who were barely kept alive
I could deal with trying to process pigeons acting like they're doves

But not with interference from the power lines above
As I go on
Wondering if I've got a soul and
Counting down the hours 'til it goes
And oh, precautions, yes precautions
But if you're playing with a gun, you could kill someone
And in the dark it's hard to know a friend
But I'm not angry, I won't be forever angry
As I'm walking toward tomorrow with a rifle in my hand
And I'm thinking about New England, and I'm missing old Japan
And a mountain in California where a spring runs hot and cold
And if I told you I felt ageless, would you tell me I'm not old?
As I go on
Wondering if I've got a soul and
Counting down the hours 'till it goes