Input & Broken - Lonely World | Текст песни

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• Input & Broken
• Lonely World

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Six o’clock, the sky’s on fire,

Coffee for the routine, bleed and inspire,

Piece that night back together,

I feel all right but my heads like, “whatever”,

Approachable in any situation,

But that right there was a crime in the making,

I stopped to appreciate the face,

Bottom of the barrel with an ease to make mistakes,

Refill cups for indulgence,

Divided by the clutch of the quotient,

I’m tugging on the cord to expose this,

No more shelter for the fearful and hopeless,

I speak on the behalf of my associate,

He’s got the soul that’ll make you feel appropriate,

This generation lacks something meaningful,

If you don’t feel it what the fuck are you bleeding for!

We are iPods and CDR’s,

We are whiskey and PBR,

We sing freely on these guitars,

On these guitars, on these guitars.

Celebration, point exclamation,

I’m fending off all this noise that’s complacent,

I know I’ve seen this episode before,

Reruns never looked so pitiful and worn, (she said)

I can sense a difference in you,

Smarter than the average man, and better looking too,

I can only thank you for this,

Life changing personality that you possess,

When I heard that I was shell shocked,

The only difference between us is pills popped,

And I will never judge you for that,

Your life is your life and my life is a trap,

A poor kid reinvented once,

That’s all it took for my morale to be up,

I taught myself to never look down,

I am a king that’s in search of his crown.

We are iPods and CDR’s,

We are whiskey and PBR,

We sing freely on these guitars,

On these guitars, on these guitars.

Attention, it’s my intervention,

I brought the problems, you need to fix them,

I can’t believe that’s how we act,

Selfish aficionados on the map,

Break that, take that, save that,

I need to face that, make that payback,

If I don’t live like today is my last day,

My brain would be dead and my lungs be an ashtray,

We cannot afford to perish,

Our time is now, don’t be shy to share it,

Net generation, echo boomers,

Technologically advanced with sex consumers,

Our culture went pop,

Debris rained down and progression stopped,

So turn that volume up now,

March to your own drum, create your sound.

We are iPods and CDR’s,

We are whiskey and PBR,

We sing freely on these guitars,

On these guitars, on these guitars.