My impassioned heart once thumped within my chest
Like a drum March headed home
I had planned to take this battered six string and leave this town
Only to return a man

Now I lie in wait for hollywood
Getting older and soft around the middle
I hold my stomach in whenever she sees me naked
I’m the tired asphalt, I’m the paper king

This machine once killed fascists
Now it simply sleeps
In that dusty dark corner
I had planned to take this face out on the road and be a fire in the night

I won’t lie in wait for Hollywood
Getting older and soft around the middle
My best days are ahead of me, I’m going somewhere I have never been
No more am I the paper king