TOO MANY TENNIS BALLS [Verse 1] They ask me what I do — I start to laugh, ‘Cause it’s a forty-minute answer and a page-and-a-half. I’ve been a barista, a busker, a teacher, a clown, A walking Venn diagram who never settles down. [Pre-Chorus 1] There’s beauty in the mess, there’s meaning in the sprawl — If you trace the red thread, you’ll find me after all. [Chorus 1] I’m a dog with too many tennis balls, Dropping one to chase another before it falls. Happy in the chaos, haunted by the calm, Trying to hold my life in an open palm. Yeah, I’m fine — just gloriously overwhelmed — But I’d rather drown in motion than sit still on the shelf. [Verse 2] “So what do you do?” — oh boy, how long have you got? Depends on the day and which dream I forgot. I’ve been a poet, a planner, a dropout, a fool, A master of starting things I never quite get through. [Pre-Chorus 2] There’s method in this scatterbrain, Every detour circles back again. [Chorus 2] I’m a dog with too many tennis balls, One eye on the next before this one falls. Happy in the chaos, haunted by the calm, Still chasing what moves me and keeps me disarmed. Yeah, I’m fine — just joyfully overwhelmed — It’s crowded in my head but it's my favourite realm. [Instrumental Break / Style Shift] [Bridge] Behind the jokes, there’s a bruise that sings, From all the times the world tried to clip my wings. But you can’t grow roots without the sprawl — This tangle is my thread, after all. [Verse 3] “So what do you do?” — where do I begin? I’ve worn forty-eight hats and I’d wear them again. I’ve been the bar singer, the startup guy, the show-biz buffoon, Still floating through mayhem on the same old balloon. [Post-Bridge Reprise (Pre-Chorus 3)] Every two years, I shed my skin — New job, new dream, same restless grin. Call it a calling or a curse on repeat, I just keep dancing with unfinished beats [Chorus 3 / Final] I’m a dog with too many tennis balls, But maybe that’s my way of answering the call. Happy in the chaos, reckless in the calm, Starting to believe it’s part of the charm. Yeah, I’m fine — just gloriously uncontained — Chasing every shiny thing that calls my name So don't ask what I do — ask what I’m becoming, Ask what’s still unfolding, what keeps me humming. I’m happy in the overwhelm — this squiggly-line life suits me well. Yeah, I’m fine — just gloriously uncontained — Chasing every shiny thing that calls my name.
