"Fred Jones Pt. 2" lyrics

Fred sits alone at his desk in the dark
There's an awkward young shadow waits in the hall
He's cleared all his things, and he's put them in boxes
Things that remind him, "Life has been good."

Twenty-five years
He's worked at the paper
A man's here to take him downstairs

"And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time."

There was no party, and there were no songs
'Cause today's just a day like the day that he started
No one is left here that knows his first name
And life barrels on like a runaway train

Where the passengers change
They don't change anything
You get off; someone else can get on

"And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time."

Streetlight shines through the shades
Casting lines on the floor, and lines on his face
He reflects on the day

Fred gets his paints out and goes to the basement
Projecting some slides onto a plain white
Canvas and traces it
Fills in the spaces
He turns off the slides, and it doesn't look right

Yeah, and all of these bastards
Have taken his place
He's forgotten but not yet gone

And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time