I've got a great big problem that I can't fix.
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I think it's quarter to three when it's half past six.
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Everything's early or way too late.
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Now I never can remember the day and the date.
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Never used to be this much trouble before.
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I used to watch the clock but not anymore.
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I used to keep track of the time I'd lose,
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But now the whole thing has me so confused.
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I have to find a new job every week or so,
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'Cause no one needs a man who's always fast or slow.
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Still you'll get no complaint from me,
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But what can the answer be?
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Where does the time go when I'm with you?
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How many hours do I lose every day?
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They recombine when I'm missing you,
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Slowing me down like a digital delay.
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Where does the time go when I'm with you?
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Why does it seem like there's never enough?
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It's just like I'm living split in two.
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Two kinds of time when you're out and in love.
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There's only so much pleasure a man can take,
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'Til his brain starts to go and his senses fade.
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Doesn't need to eat or drink or sleep.
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Can't feel a thing 'cause he's in too deep.
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Walks around thinking that the world is fine,
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While an alien force takes over his mind.
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And then he throws away every single dime,
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And the last thing to go is his sense of time.
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But then if you're having fun,
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Who cares if you're that far gone?
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They tell me that time's not free.
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What did time ever do for me?
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And if I don't see that's wrong,
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Then maybe I'm too far gone.
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Where Does The Time Go?
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Todd Rundgren |