I know I heard your battle cries under your saddened skies--it's late.
Dontcha know I hear your battle cries under your mixed moon skies today?
I will not feign battle cries I don't recognize today.
Cantcha see your cries won't make me catch your trench-bound train?

I think I'm getting worn.
i think I'm getting worn.
Fatigues that know the score...
i think I'm getting worn.

I know you'll memorize those battle cries I never said.
Buck-shy with your short battle cries, your poker voice gave you away.
I sense you see my covered eyes from the trench across the way.
I could summarize the sound of your cries, but a sum-up won't make me stay.

I think I'm getting worn.
I think I'm getting worn.
Fatigues that know the score...
I think I'm getting worn.

Won't change my mind about your cries, so don't look up at the sky all day.
I pray you'll find some holy lie under your sacred skies in May.
You said "these April skies make me cry", I said "honey, it's already May."
You said "these skies are high and dry", I said, "that's why I'm heading for
the bay".

I think I'm getting worn.
i think I'm getting worn.
Fatigues that know the score...
i think i'm getting worn I think I'm getting worn I think i'm getting worn i
think I'm getting worn I think I'm getting worn I think I'm getting worn I
think I'm getting worn