win-ding your way down on ba-ker street, light-ing your way down you're dead on your feet, well a-no-ther cra-zy day, you drink the night a-way and for-get a-bout ev-ery-thing. this ci-ty bears and makes you feel so cold, its got so ma-ny peo-ple but its got no soul and its ta-ken you so long, to find out you were wrong, when you thought it held ev-ery-thing. you used to think that it was so ea-sy, you used to say that it was so ea-sy, but you're try-ing, you're try-ing now. a-no-ther year and then you'll be hap-py, just one more year and then you'll be hap-py, but you're cry-ing, you're cry-ing now. way down the street there's a lad in his place. he o-pens the door, he's got that look on his face and he asks you where you been, you tell him who you seen, and you talk a-bout a-ny-thing. he's got this dream a-bout buy-ing some land, he's gon-na give up the booze and the one night stands, and then he'll set-tle down in some qui-et lit-tle town and for-get a-bout ev-ery-thing. but you know he'll al-ways keep mo-ving, you know he's ne-ver gon-na stop mo-ving, cos he's roll-ing, he's the roll-ing stone. when you wake up it's a new mor-ning, the sun is shi-ning it's a new mor-ning, and you're go-ing, you're go-ing home.