Saturday
I'm good to goAnd I'm going nowhere fastIt could be worseIt could be taking you there with meI'm good to goBut it looks like I'm still on my own
I'm good to goFor something goldenThough the motions I've been going through have failedAnd I'm coasting on potential towards a wallAt a 100 miles an hour
When I sayTwo more weeksMy foot is in the door (yeah)I can't sleepIn the wake of Saturday (Saturday)SaturdayWhen these open doors were open-endedSaturdayWhen these open doors were open-ended
Pete and I attacked the laws of Astoriawith promise and precision and mess of youthful innocenceAnd I read about the afterlifeBut I never really lived more than an hour (more than an hour)
When I sayTwo more weeksMy foot is in the door (yeah)I can't sleepIn the wake of Saturday (Saturday)SaturdayWhen these open doors were open-endedSaturdayWhen these open doors were open-ended
And I read about the afterlifeBut I never really livedAnd I read about the afterlifeBut I never really lived
Two more weeksMy foot is in the doorMe and PeteIn the wake of SaturdaySaturdayWhen these open doors were open-endedSaturdayWhen these open doors were open-endedSaturdaySaturday