Staring out of my hotel room

on a city that I could never get used to.

I'm looking for the writing on the wall.

Slipping down an icy road

with an over coat and a worn out sole

I'm looking for the writing on the wall.

-Chorus:

What am I to do with this?

I've stuck myself with a Trojan horse gift,

and when I, open it, at least I'll have a song to sing along to.

I feel like a tire tread,

that left its mark on the road where noone goes.

When there's nothing left, at least I'll have a song to sing along to.


The most beautiful thing that I ever heard

was Handel's largo on the back on the bus.

As skid marks rolled by,

someone had a close call.

And Kincaid talks of a new EP deal,

one that'll show just how I feel.

I'm starting to see the writing on the he wall.

-Chorus:

What am I to do with this?

I've stuck myself with a Trojan horse gift,
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and when I, open it, at least I'll have a song to sing along to.

I feel like a tire tread,

that left its mark on the road where noone goes.

When there's nothing left, at least I'll have a song to sing along to.


This won't be the only one.

This won't be the only one.

This won't be the only one.

Do you see the writing on the wall?

-Solo:

This won't be the only one.

Yeah I'll sing my own song.

You will too when the day comes.

This won't be the last song.

This won't be the only one.

Yeah I'll sing my own song.

You will too when the day comes.

This won't be the last song.

This won't be the only one.

Yeah I'll sing my own song.

You will too when the day comes.

This won't be the last song.

This won't be the only one.

Yeah I'll sing my own song.

You will too when the day comes.

This won't be the last song.

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