| Early in the morning when you wake up |
| And your sleepy head is into make up |
| When you gaze into your mirror |
| While you paint your face |
| And you check your eyelashes |
| Making sure they’re in place |
| And you mind wanders often |
| To another time |
| And you think of him |
| And how it should have lasted |
| While the disc jockey man |
| Gives you the weather forecast |
| And then he makes you feel so mellow |
| While he gets you high |
| And you remember how we laughed |
| And how he made you cry |
| Then you look into your mirror |
| And as you brush your hair |
| Brush your hair to the rhythm of |
| The music playing on your radio |
| Paint your face while you listen |
| To the talking of the jockey |
| On the early morning show |
| Put your troubles in |
| The back of your mind |
| Cause the temperature |
| Outside is just fine |
| And it’s ten to eight |
| And you ain’t got the time |
| So you walk across your room |
| And start to make your bed |
| Then you slip into your jeans |
| Your eyes still feel like lead |
| And the memory seems to vanish |
| But the thought’s still there |
| Tell yourself you don’t |
| But deep inside, you still care |
| Deep inside, you still care |
| And it’s ten to eight |
| And you ain’t got the time |
| And it’s ten to eight |
| And you just ain’t got the time |