Escapism you're my only hope at the drop of a hat i am gone
And all the old punks writing catchy tunes about friendship while they talk trash about each other behind their backs they're beyond reproach they've accomplished too much
I'm fed up to the back teeth i'm gonna leave this elitist picnic
People change like seasons and winter is no friend it seems pathetic but this is how it goes it seems pathetic but this is how it goes