I can't write lyrics anymore, I sit, guitar in hand
Playing the same old riffs, man
That writing part of me's back there, somewhere
But the road's washed out.

When things are good you stay there 'til they're not
And if you get to choose to go,
They hey it's alright but if the choice is made for you
By God, by the one you love...well, shit.

Getting it's on me, correcting it's on me, getting it's on me
It's on me, you see.
Getting it's on me, correcting it's on me, getting it's on me
It's on me, you see.
Getting it's on me, correcting it's on me, getting it's on me
It's on me...don't you see?

Then the years pass by and you leave yourself behind
Sloughing rough stuff, while it thickens you up
And if you land with your feet underneath you go collect those bits
And reconstruct yourself.

Getting it's on me, correcting it's on me, getting it's on me
It's on me, you see.
Getting it's on me, correcting it's on me, getting it's on me
It's on me, you see.
Getting it's on me, correcting it's on me, getting it's on me
It's on me...don't you see?

Thought there'd be more time, but I guess that was it.
Thought there'd be more time, but I guess that was it.
Get on with it, 'cause that was it...don't you see?