I miss my afternoon naps
My kitty cat sleeping on my lap
But she died August two-thousand eleven
Just got back from Norway
When she slipped off to kitty heaven
Last night I had to laugh out loud
When Hopkins beat Tavoris Cloud
At the age of forty-eight
No fighter ever was that great
This morning I woke up at nine
Your body pressed hard against mine
And my mind began to race
With all the business on my plate
This morning I woke up at nine
Your body pressed hard against mine
And I felt grateful for your love
And I felt grateful for your love
At the age of forty-six
I'm still one fucked up little kid
Who cannot figure anything out
Who gets upset and stomps and pouts
At the age of forty-six
I'm still one fucked up little kid
Who has my fears and has my doubts
Who has my challenges and bouts
And though I moved out here I know
I'm still that kid from Ohio
Who still has hopes and still has dreams
Who has not learned a fucking thing
And though I moved out here I know
I'm still that kid from Ohio
Who's living in a world
I'm still getting to know
Two-thousand twelve last July
Every night for a week I cried and cried
When I got the news that my old friend
Tim Mooney died
My heart dropped dead
My mind it spun
Thinking about the times
When we were younger
And how my band looked up to Tim
And all the guys that played with him
Sometimes I still cannot believe
Tim Mooney he died at fifty-three
He seemed to be much stronger
He was too young to up and leave
Sometimes I still cannot believe
Tim Mooney he died at fifty-three
There in Petaluma in his kitchen
Oh how his wife and kids miss him
And at the age of forty-six
I'm still one fucked up little kid
Who grew up in the sticks
Whose bad habits I can't kick
And at the age of forty-six
I'm still one fucked up little kid
Who grew up in the sticks
Who has my hang-ups and my tics
And though I moved out here I know
I'm still that kid from Ohio
Still digging for something
For what I don't know
And though I moved out here I know
I'm still that kid from Ohio
Still searching for something