| Like I woke up too fast from a dream
|
| In a rented room that doesn’t belong to me
|
| And I think my arm’s asleep
|
| I don’t know
|
| Feels like something’s missing
|
| And I drank all weekend
|
| And I took all of the drugs
|
| That we bought from your friend in the valley
|
| I don’t remember the sun coming up
|
| We sat in front of the TV as the news report came in
|
| Another fucking manifesto
|
| I polished off the vodka
|
| You dug for some Vicodin
|
| Our phones lit up at the same time
|
| You said the body count don’t phase you
|
| You’re still terrified to die
|
| Just not as much as you are used to
|
| We’ve got ten years left with these bodies
|
| And maybe twenty on this Earth
|
| If we burn it all down will we feel something now?
|
| If not what’s the point in anything?
|
| What is all your heartache worth?
|
| Then you left on a Sunday and everything got weird at once
|
| You smiled with no hint of goodbye in your eyes
|
| And you made me feel important
|
| It felt wrong to say I’m not okay
|
| I lied and drank and talked my game
|
| Sometimes I wonder if you felt the same
|
| We’ve got ten years left with these bodies
|
| And maybe twenty on this Earth
|
| If we burn it all down will we feel something now?
|
| If not what’s the point in anything?
|
| What is all your heartache worth?
|
| We’ve got ten years left with these bodies
|
| And maybe twenty on this Earth
|
| So we burn it all down just to feel something now?
|
| If not what’s the point in anything?
|
| What is all your heartache worth?
|
| They’re gonna box up all your things
|
| And put you in the attic
|
| The basement flooded last spring
|
| One day they’ll die
|
| Someone’s gonna come throw you away |