Repeat these days, before they expire and come to an end I'd do it all the same, Even though there's things I know I can't repent They say there's a market for growing old Where ideals are lost, youth laid to rest, dreams get bought and sold Repeat these Days Across These States Repeat these days Is there anything alive left in this place? Trace back the footprints of the lonely decisions that you have made We exist in a place that time forgot Recapitulate missed chances, The false advances, the risks and the longshots Repeat These Days Repeat These Days Across these states The clock keeps on tickin' and my feet are sinkin' Is there anything alive left in this place? Just an endless succession of chainworkers, digging for shallow graves We arrived right after the death of the American dream Where everything is dull, nothing shines, and nothing ever gleams The clock keeps on ticking and my feet are sinkin Repeat These Days Repeat These Days Repeat These Days