who's who- when we say who's not
and who's left when the they stomp out the fire
who feels like walking to the gas station
it's much too cold, I'd rather waste away tonight
the curtains crash, smother the sun
what time is it, wait, what year is it?
I've lost my head, sometimes I lose touch
I find myself coming through like a station on the radio, passing under a tunnel.
I think the ground is solid and the air moves around me
I'm just waiting for someone to throw my books out the window
I'm not feeling it this time
should we turn left or right? both could be nice
maybe just chug another beer and drive straight
straight off the world, straight down to the light
pedal to the metal, baby
we just sat there glancing at each other
what should I say, should I say anything?
is she going to say something, no I guess not
maybe she doesn't want to talk to me
maybe I don't want to talk to her
car plummetting down, swirling black beneath
the pearly gates and the panel of american idol judges, white robes and halos
you looked at me quickly, not wanting to show your colors
you didn't want me to leave, but it's easier
why won't they listen, our minds dancing in the wind to the squeeling of the pigs
I can't be here anymore, the walls are closing in on me
this place is on fire and we're burning
come out of the dark, I'll ask you "take me with you"
safe and sound in the glory of the plan of a lifetime
I'll walk into the mountains, into the skin of the earth
hold hands, take our last breath and sing into the sea.
the boy lights his cigarette with a book of matches
"I wanna be like daddy"
he picks up the bottle and lights on fire
twenty years down the dirt path and he hears knocking on the door, who the fuck is it?
it's little jimmy and the cops.
"your son was caught smoking. send him to his room, take away his toys,
if only someone would take mine"
he throws the gun to his mouth, eyes shut hard.
"I understand"
the man turns around, barstool graffed to his ass, breaks the empty bottle off on the table
shattered glass, and closes the door.
"on to our next story. man in wheelchair sues building owner after crashing into front entrance canopy while attempting a suicide jump. When questioned the man stated 'there really should be more handicap accessible ways down'. there you have it john, we're all going to hell. they take dirty money in hell, right john?"
and who's left when the they stomp out the fire
who feels like walking to the gas station
it's much too cold, I'd rather waste away tonight
the curtains crash, smother the sun
what time is it, wait, what year is it?
I've lost my head, sometimes I lose touch
I find myself coming through like a station on the radio, passing under a tunnel.
I think the ground is solid and the air moves around me
I'm just waiting for someone to throw my books out the window
I'm not feeling it this time
should we turn left or right? both could be nice
maybe just chug another beer and drive straight
straight off the world, straight down to the light
pedal to the metal, baby
we just sat there glancing at each other
what should I say, should I say anything?
is she going to say something, no I guess not
maybe she doesn't want to talk to me
maybe I don't want to talk to her
car plummetting down, swirling black beneath
the pearly gates and the panel of american idol judges, white robes and halos
you looked at me quickly, not wanting to show your colors
you didn't want me to leave, but it's easier
why won't they listen, our minds dancing in the wind to the squeeling of the pigs
I can't be here anymore, the walls are closing in on me
this place is on fire and we're burning
come out of the dark, I'll ask you "take me with you"
safe and sound in the glory of the plan of a lifetime
I'll walk into the mountains, into the skin of the earth
hold hands, take our last breath and sing into the sea.
the boy lights his cigarette with a book of matches
"I wanna be like daddy"
he picks up the bottle and lights on fire
twenty years down the dirt path and he hears knocking on the door, who the fuck is it?
it's little jimmy and the cops.
"your son was caught smoking. send him to his room, take away his toys,
if only someone would take mine"
he throws the gun to his mouth, eyes shut hard.
"I understand"
the man turns around, barstool graffed to his ass, breaks the empty bottle off on the table
shattered glass, and closes the door.
"on to our next story. man in wheelchair sues building owner after crashing into front entrance canopy while attempting a suicide jump. When questioned the man stated 'there really should be more handicap accessible ways down'. there you have it john, we're all going to hell. they take dirty money in hell, right john?"
