Slow - Whitaker

All my thoughts they gather round you

Are no longer on my mind

Now my words they all surround you

See the blind leading the blind

Mmm, slow down, slow down babe

You are moving faster than my eyes can see

Ooh, I’m feeling old

And all these thing you say they are mysteries to me, mysteries

We moved on the right track 'til we ran out of air

And we slowly passed out before we could get anywhere

We took all the right turns just to make it out of there

But we never gave thought to the passing time of year

Slow down, slow down babe

You are moving faster than my eyes can see

Oh, I’m feeling old

And all these thing you say they are mysteries to me, mysteries

Ooh, love

We are holding on again

Ooh, love

We are holding on again

Ooh, love

We are holding on

We are holding on

We are holding on again

Mmm, slow down, slow down babe

You are moving faster than my eyes can see

Ooh, I’m feeling old

And all these thing you say they are mysteries to me

Mysteries, mysteries, mysteries