Perfect Timing

Here I am again, perfect timing
The strings are ringing and the words are rhyming
I used to hate the fool in me but only in the morning
Now I tolerate him all day longOut on the highway
I hear the moaning
that low and lonesome whistle you only know from longing
and through those naked trees got the windows blowing orange
taking over that cold shoulder racing byI might have known before
If I've got this old before
I thought I got too cool to give a damn
Do you see in dreams at night scenes to spend the afterlife
trying to live the last one downHere I am again, perfect timing
The strings are ringing and the words are rhyming
I used to hate the fool in me but only in the morning
now I tolerate him all day long