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All kinds of time

by Foutains Of Wayne

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The clock´s running down
The team´s losing ground
To the opposing defense
The young quarterback
Waits for the snap
When suddenly it all starts to make sense

He´s got all kinds of time
He´s got all kinds of time
All kinds of time
He´s got all kinds of time
All kinds of time

He takes a step back
He´s under attack
But he knows that no one can touch him now
He seems so at ease
A strange inner peace
Is all that he´s feeling somehow

He´s got all kinds of time
He´s got all kinds of time
All kinds of time
He´s got all kinds of time
All kinds of time

[Bridge]
He thinks of his mother
He thinks of his bride-to-be
He thinks of his father
His two younger brothers
Gathered around the widescreen TV

He looks to the left
He looks to the right
And there in a golden ray of light
Is his open man
Just as he planned
The whole world is his tonight
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