Endless evenings of non-exist Are getting shorter, monotonous Like an intruder, I belong outside Although I find myself right back The same place I was before Saying things I'd say once more There's no reason for me to be here, no I feel so lonesome, surrounded by friends Who are talking about me, saying things I could care less about This dialogue is without Worth, content, significance Conversational ambivalence I hear the same things every night, it just ain't right We'll see who's left holding the bag Give me something I can sink my teeth into Show me a time, tell me a story I haven't heard a million times before I pass out from boredom As I watch the people pass I watch they pass I see moments in their lives, nothing fascinating Are we all living for the past, never realizing We're clinging to an empty bag Lacking content, significance Conversational ambivalence I hear the same things every night, it just ain't right We'll see who's left holding the bag