Laying awake on a Thursday night, why get out of bed at all?
When everyone's off in the land of the malcontent?
Rabid canines and persistent ex-lovers, in the company of the liars' chiefs
Painting pictures on the canvas for the fools
The covers leave and they run together
Out of the dead, pale land
Consuming the laughter and the tainted decisions
And in a hazy hurry, is this what growing up feels like?
Pretentious words for the silent deaf make little of what they're worth
Tainted by the will to be coherent
But with liquid gold and a flaming heart
An a ability to set this world apart
Engulfed in the embers of a party long burned out
Feverish and empty I still am running
After the ball, fresh kicked in the park
Feverish and empty I still am running
After the future I thought I could rise above
It starts to wilt, and it flies away from us
Grasping at the things we used to love
We fade away, and we're grabbing onto straws
As we sink into this glass of age and smoke
Feverish and empty we're all still running
After the youth long lost in the park
A burned out star on its cold way out
Another trip on the roundabout
A foreign youth with a cherished pout
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