| Last I heard, Nick’s still driving Lyft
|
| And Richie’s working the midnight shift
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| Of that motel down in Elsinore
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| He’s dodging all the meth heads
|
| I’m working my four jobs
|
| Right down to my fragile bones
|
| Finding out there’s nothing left inside
|
| Except some space that they
|
| Just haven’t took quite yet
|
| But if nothing gets better
|
| Tell me what that means
|
| This «hard-earned» life is a joke
|
| Feels more like drowning to me
|
| There’s no reason to believe
|
| There’s no reason to believe
|
| My brother is a hardworking man
|
| He takes what he’s given
|
| And gives everything he can
|
| He’s talking 'bout fleeing the country
|
| Or faking his death
|
| Saids they’re after his money
|
| And my mother lost a child
|
| When she was twenty-three
|
| She shouldn’t have to lose a couple more
|
| To some bad loans and undiagnosed depression
|
| Still I think maybe this is all we’re meant for
|
| Brown bags outside a Circle K
|
| My tooth falls out and hits the ground
|
| You know I can’t dream bigger
|
| But if nothing gets better
|
| Tell me what that means
|
| This «hard-earned» life is a joke
|
| Feels more like drowning to me
|
| There’s no reason to believe
|
| There’s no reason to believe
|
| Talking shit on each other
|
| In between talking about running away
|
| Watch the years disappear up our noses
|
| Talking about the same things
|
| All the shit we won’t get done
|
| The reasons we could
|
| Barely leave the house today
|
| Knowing it’s sad at this point
|
| We can’t be happy with the work that pays
|
| Thinking I’ll die young
|
| Shouldn’t feel like a relief
|
| I guess that it’s a joke
|
| And there’s no reason to believe
|
| Thinking I’ll die young
|
| Shouldn’t feel like a relief
|
| I guess that it’s a joke
|
| And there’s no reason to believe
|
| Thinking I’ll die young
|
| Shouldn’t feel like a relief
|
| I guess that it’s a joke
|
| And there’s no reason to believe |