I keep sticking my hands deep in my pockets
There's nothing there...
There's nothing there but I can't stop it

Got to take the Number 3 downtown
Stand out in a cold, cold rain...
On a bus stop, but I don't care

It's just the same old thing
A subtle handshake to get some dreams
And it's just the same old thing
Another handshake to get to sleep

Familiar faces, familiar chair
I've known these people for so many years...
But none of them are friends

And 25th Street keeps calling my name
Every night as the sun creeps down...
And every night...

It's just the same old thing
A subtle handshake to get some dreams
And it's just the same old thing