Now the lounge is full of farmersnfor the 7:30 drawnThe teammates all left before they had to buy a roundnWhen they pull the 50/50, and I've lost again I'll gonMaybe have one more brown one for the snowy roadnAll the championship banners going yellow on the wallnAnd my name when it gets closer to last callnnSo Elvira brings my bottlenHold it up and let it bendnFigures of two rinks battling an extra endnAnd i'm peeling off the labelnAs they peel a corner guardnDance down the sheet to the tune of Hurry, Hurry HardnAnd my popcorn squeaks with the questionnWonders why I'm not at homenWhere you wait beside a silent telephonenDoodle circles within circles all alonenHave to stop myself from climbingnOn the table full of empties to yell:nnWhy, why can't I draw right up to what I want to say?nWhy can't I ever stop where I want to stay?nI slide right through the daynAlways throwing hack weightnRight off, no never never ever evernRight off, no never never ever nevernRight off, no never never never evernRight off, no never ever never evernnNow the senior bonspiel winnersnCirca 1963nAre all staring, glaring dis-approvinglynFrom their frame in that old photographnAnd I know you're out their waitingnFor an answer I can't give younso tell me,nnWhy, Why can't I draw right up to what I want to say?nWhy can't I ever stop when I want to stay?nWe roll right through our yearsnWe rip right through our monthsnWe slide through our daysnAnd always throwing hack weightnRight off, no never never ever evernRight off, no never never ever nevernRight off, no never ever never evernRight off