Iron ore has many uses
It'll make you rich or give you bruises
And either way, you're probably better off
Than fumbling round for some sense of purpose
And telling yourself it would all be worth it
If you'd kept track of all the time you lost
We both left our hometowns at eighteen
The years have passed without figuring out much of anything
Except the faults i have but not how to fix them
Who my true friends were but not why i don't miss them
And anyway, would they still want me around
So now it's stopped clocks and endless stairways
And records played backwards over static airwaves
But i don't think there's a message to be found
Someone told me many years ago
You can be right all you want but you will be right all alone