The Week Of August First Lyrics

So I go down to my deepest depths

And lose the things I'd learned to accept

Like faith in promises

I think about the truth I hold

Compared to the bitter fruits of getting old

Just like my father says

This is a test:

To see if my worst still can beat my best

This is a test:

A measurement of my failure or success

It's just my sophmore jinx

It's all come back to me

I built up bad times in the cracks in my securities

But will I steer right

Will my laundry stay white

Whenever I lose sight of my plight

But I still turn my back and look the other way

Sustain myself with all work and no play

It's life but far from living

And my views become naturally corrupt

When my friends and enemies get mixed up

My lesson's learned after the fact

And so my palms get sweaty and I can't read the answers on my hand