Wasteside

I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow
But it's better than sleeping by the wasteside of today
All the barbershops and funeral-homes were open
And the customers were coming
And the business was doing great

I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow
Just dreaming dreams and drooling on my bed
All the people in my town would be born
Then they'd get themselves a little hair cut
And then promptly after they'd be dead

I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow
When a drunk girl awoke me on the train
But I did not hear her mumbling and I did not hear her stumbling
As I dubbed myself a passenger
And kindly stepped away

I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow, of tomorrow
I was sleeping, I was sleeping by the wasteside
I was sleeping, I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow
I was sleeping, ladies and gentlemen, I was sleeping

I was sleeping by the wasteside of tomorrow
But it's better than sleeping by the wasteside of today
All the barbershops, funeral-homes were open
And the customers were coming
And the business was doing so, so great