I live in a tiny seashell

that rests on the seabed

Patiently waiting for spring

Abducted by the memories of a wandering soul That left its body resting under the ground Twenty-three years ago

Babe you've got me wasting You've got me wasting

My precious time on you You've got me wasting You've got me wasting

My precious

I wrote this in a church

Sat on the back pew

I wore white pants you see

I normally sit by the street dew

And now I've got two angels staring back at me

Babe you've got me wasting You've got me wasting

My precious time on you You've got me wasting You've got me wasting

My precious time

I feel so young but mostly I feel so small

You've got your whole life's plan written on the wall

I hang my wet towels on my bedroom door

You've got a meditation room

I usually go to bed at two

You've got a meditation room

Darling you can probably find me somewhere singing to a broom

Babe, you've got me wasting You've got me wasting

My precious time on you Babe, you've got me wasting You've got me wasting

My precious time