these days

it's coming round again, the slowly creeping hand, of time and its command, soon enough it comes, and settles in its place, its shadow in my face, puts pressure in my day, this life well it's slipping right through my hands, these days turned out nothing like i had planned, it's coming round again, the slowly creeping hand, of time and its demands, it settles in its place, its shadow in my face, undignified and lame, this life well it's slipping right through my hands, these days turned out nothing like i had planned, control well it's slipping right through my hands, these days turned out nothing like i had planned, soon enough it comes, soon enough it comes, to tie us down