I guess I'll never be a star
I feel like Brando in the backseat of that car
When he goes "I coulda been a contender"
I'm just another small-town dead-ender

It's like my sainted mother said
You don't stop dreamin' till the day that you are dead
But there's dreamin' and then there's action
Dreamin' usually ends up being a distraction

And I guess I've begun my long decline
I threw away my life and I'm only 29

There's something funny in the air
That old familiar whiff of abject despair
Well I think I've made that scent my own now
I wear it like a cheap cologne now

I spend my weekends shufflin' cards
And break my dreams down into ever-smaller shards
And I watch as the window closes
And my inspiration dozes

And I guess that you know you're all grown up
When your dreams are so hollow you can crush 'em like a paper cup
And I guess I've begun my long decline
I threw away my life and I'm only 29

I've really no right to complain
I got a car, a coupla bucks, and shelter from the rain
And the years go by ever quicker
And if all else fails, there's always liquor

And I guess that I can't be fully grown
Cos when I lift the coffin lid I can still hear my dreams moan
But still, I've begun my long decline
Aw, fuck, I'm 29