the first time an adult hit you or the final time a love one kissed you
the scandal of being alive lighting fire after fire as our heroes meet their maker and we're busy wasting our time playing in bands that don't amount to anything and having the nerve to be proud of it still, alcohol should solve some of the problems or at least help to forget them we were supposed to have kids by now friends who loved gardening and an understanding wife I thought we were meant to grow up and settle down
we are flesh we are dead we are unborn architects we are flesh we are dead
hey, hey lower your heads
these are dead or failing limbs we are barstool alchemists
dead man, lower your heads broken bones make for better health
there's no cause to think that anything will ever change
dead man, no more rest leave the dying to the living
you have said you will say you will say you have said what, what will become of us now? hey, are these the last words we'll say?
stop cleaning the word-worned furniture and the resultant ephemera I have come to brink of utter ruin in the midst of the entire assembly like another bad day and on and on and on like another bad day and on and on and on like another bad day it carries on and on and on like another bad day and it's on and on and on like another bad dream it goes on and on and on like another bad day and on and on and on like another bad day it carries on and on and on
there's not, there's not an emotion just breathe, don't forget to breathe