Lyrics
Sitting in his desk, his tired eyes were gridlocked with a white computer screen
Trying hard to organize the miles of papers before 5:15
Every now and then he look out at the playground across the street through the glass
And remember when his nine to five was spinning round and falling in the grass
When he’d run around his backyard in his dirty bare feet
And his dad would come outside and say it’s time to eat
And he’d try to strike a bargain and in his most sincere tone beg oh please, please, please
Five more minutes on the tire swing I don’t want to stop, it’s my favorite thing
Five more minutes on the tire swing I barely just started and I want to play just a little more
Where did those day run off, silly games and calling names, and frantic afternoons
The good ol’ days left him faster than a loosely gripped balloon
He wondered if he was the only one pretending
He doesn’t feel an overwhelming sense of resentment
Shouldn’t everyone just be out and having recess?
And telling the boss man
Five more minutes on the tire swing I don’t want to stop, it’s my favorite thing
Five more minutes on the tire swing I barely just started and I want to play just a little more
We rise and we shine and we’re glued to the news
It’ coffee and breakfast and the working’ man’s blues
He thought to himself, well today I refuse to wait another day to remember to play
Five more minutes on the tire swing I don’t want to stop, it’s my favorite thing
Five more minutes on the tire swing I barely just started and I want to play just a little more
just a little just a little more…