| It’s a quarter to two and the bars are all closing |
| Nobody looks how they think |
| The guy in the corner with spit in his beard |
| Wearing more than he drank of his drink |
| The dancers are shaking like ants |
| Desperate to find a last minute queen |
| While the rest of us are all headed home |
| To try finding comfort in dreams |
| Cause this isn’t life |
| I know that I chose it |
| But I can’t stand waking up |
| And nobody knows it |
| I’ll never find the strength |
| To change what I need |
| Is this who I’ll always be? |
| I open my eyes and the room is still spinning |
| I joke about buying a vowel |
| The funniest part of this feeling |
| Is knowing the answer but nothing comes out |
| So I’m shaking around like I’m hanging from something |
| I know is about to break |
| Like I’m biting the gun but the safety is on |
| And I threw up the pills I ate |
| The notes are all scribbled in pencil without really knowing what I’m trying to |
| write |
| But something like «goddamn the man who said everything gonna be fine» |
| Life is a lot like a sewer |
| We get out of it what we put in |
| That’s when doubt kicks in |
| Maybe I just don’t have it inside me |
| Maybe there’s too much I couldn’t face? |
| I just wanted someone to come down from heaven and explain this cold and fucked |
| up place |
| I’ll just keep trying to hide it |
| Until there’s nothing left to save |
| And in the end, I know, I’m gonna die |
| Buried in another mans grave |