Текст: Paul Westerberg. Century.

:
Ohhh...Ohhh...
Yeah...Yeah...

Well I bit off more than I could chew
I sucked a while and spit it out
You met me once now who are you
You met me twice who am I to doubt
Built to please and raised to rock
Destruction starts here on this block
Millenium has come at last
My one horse town is made of glass

My century
Is turning
My century
Is turning

Well so long to the so-so years
Of river mouths and chandeliers
Morning crews that make me yawn
I hold my heave until I'm gone
I cock an ear and crack a smile
Last in line and single file
The only ones standing at this speech
Are the ones with the brooms and the mops and the keys

My century
Is turning
My century
Is turning

Now I can't go back
It's my last chance
Now i can't go back
It's my last chance

Blacktop yards and sonic booms
Done heroin and in ladies' rooms
Bouncing balls and spinning wheels
Electronic retail power deals
Turning calendars forgotten
Expiration date is rotten
Behind my eyes I've seen it all
Years go past upon the wall

My century
Is turning
My century
Is turning
My century
Is turning
...To me

My century, my century
My century, my century
My century, my...