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Oatmeal For X-Mas

de Let's Go Bowling

In leaving, he took a look out
Wet streets, now he's down the stairwell
The path on which he's travelled so much
Familiarity's within his clutch
The breeze cuts into his raincoat
Sidewalk moves below his feet slow
Keeps walking in a private haze
Faces pass, never break his gaze
He ambles with a fanciful thought
An outing of cackles enticed by a single thought
He enters the usual cafe
Drinks a cup and is on his way
But he's not headed for a lively space
He's well content with his own place
What others see as a horrible shame
The fact that his days are all the same

Somewhere people own a habit but deny any proof they have it
Somewhere he'll sit parading his thoughts
Past a crowd of clowns waving like robots
His world in order and locked from inside
The pull-tab key is safe in his pocket
But he's not headed for a lively place
He's well content with his own space
What others see as a horrible shame
The fact that his days are all the same

He ambles with a fanciful thought and familiarity is all he's got
In leaving, he took a look out
Wet streets, now he's down the stairwell
The path on which he's travelled so much
Familiarity's within his clutch
But he's not headed for a lively space
He's well content with his own place
What others see as a horrible shame
His mind's made up in any case
What others see as a terrible shame
His mind's made up in any case
What others see as a horrible shame
The fact is he'll never change

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