| Turn off the light bulb ache to a shrieking pain |
| Turn that hair into a haircut and change your name |
| Through the yellow teeth white lies are told |
| Of the notches made in the house of smoke |
| So, pick the padlock keys |
| In the padlocked room |
| Wipe the smiles from your face |
| And sing the default blues |
| And go |
| What are you running from? |
| What are you running from? |
| It passed me by, but it’s never gone |
| What are you running from? |
| This is textbook heartbreak from the country school |
| The description sculpture of a thoughtless stool |
| You’ve got your heroin monologues |
| Now you’re wearing a helmet |
| Whilst you’re breaking the rules |
| So, pick the padlock keys |
| In the padlocked room |
| Wipe the smiles from your face |
| And sing the default blues |
| And go |
| What are you running from? |
| What are you running from? |
| It passed me by, but it’s never gone |
| What are you running from? |
| What are you running from? |
| What are you running from? |
| The accent you hid behind is gone |
| What are you running from? |
| There isn’t a cure |
| There isn’t a cure |
| There isn’t a cure |
| Save your wax world torture |
| For your modeling friends |
| Speak emotional trash right from Zimmerman’s bin |
| So, pick the padlock keys |
| In the padlocked room |
| Wipe the smiles from your face |
| And sing the default blues |
| And go |
| What are you running from? |
| What are you running from? |
| The accent you hid behind is gone |
| What are you running from? |
| What are you running from? |
| What are you running from? |
| It passed me by, but it’s never gone |
| What are you running from? |