Written by tony collacott, jack mowbray and breen leoeuf Never released I'm just sitting counting all the cobwebs And wondering just when you'll come along You said that you'd be here an hour ago But an hour ago is hours ago from then No, and I don't know what to do I'm drawing crazy patterns on my shoe And the sand in the hour glass slips on by Light another cigarette, watch the burning glow Catching spiders in my hand, and then I let them go Imagine pictures on the wall, watch the insects where they crawl They don't care about you and I've nothing to do Maybe the bus didn't get there on time Maybe the train doesn't run on that line for some reason And she might not come Because she doesn't want to see you again No no no, that can't be true And I've got nothing to do
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