Poor little tin man, still swinging his axe, Even though his joints are clogged with rust. My youth is slipping, my youth is slipping away. Safe in monotony, so safe, day after day My youth is slipping, my youth is slipping away. Cold wind blows off the lake, and I know for sure that it's too late Count your blessings on one hand So wait up, I'm not sleeping alone again tonight There's so much to dream about, there must be more to my life. Can't help but feel betrayed, punch the clock every single day There's no loyalty and no remorse. Youth sold for a pension cheque And it makes him sick He's heating up, he can't say no