| Have I lost it, have I lost it
|
| Or have I just bought in
|
| To the bullshit
|
| Have I lost it, have I lost it
|
| Or have I just bought in
|
| To the bullshit
|
| The mirrors
|
| The smoke I traced back
|
| To the faucet
|
| Leaking
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| Into the sink covered in hair
|
| Oh I see what you did there
|
| You cut off your cares
|
| God it’s so freeing
|
| Time isn’t fleeting
|
| It’s pause and politeness
|
| It’s judge and be triteness
|
| Your sensitivity and sex
|
| Your rules and respect
|
| I haven’t seen you follow any of it since two god damn years ago
|
| You got bored, you got tired, you gave up on filing
|
| Who pissed you off and who won you over
|
| This is a fashion, this is a formula
|
| This is contrasting colors in October
|
| You can’t go against the grain
|
| If there’s no natural wood
|
| My friends all think I’m crying wolf
|
| You got caught up in the concept
|
| And oh that’s never good
|
| (I want to be happy, but I’m better when I’m mad)
|
| So we make our own monuments
|
| Out of our favorite bridges and buildings
|
| The old ones were boring
|
| They didn’t mean anything to us
|
| I know it seems so immature
|
| All these questions I want answers for
|
| But I can’t put faith into anything
|
| I can’t physically touch
|
| I want to be happy
|
| But I’m holding myself back
|
| But a love handles
|
| And it holds back |