The Last Straw

Hotel hobbies padding dawns hollow corridors

A typewriter cackles out a stream of memories

Drying out a conscience, evicting a nightmare

Opening the doors for the dreams to come home

We live out lives in private shells

Ignore our senses and fool ourselves

To thinking that out there there's someone else cares

Someone to answer all our prayers

Are we too far gone, are we so irresponsible

Have we lost our balls, or do we just not care

We're terminal cases that keep talking medicine

Pretending the end isn't quite that near

We make futile gestures, act to the cameras

With our made up faces and PR smiles

And when the angel comes down, down to deliver us

We'll find out that after all, we're only men of straw

But everything is still the same

Passing the time passing the blame

We carry on in the same old way

We'll find out we left it too late one day to say what we meant to say

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the water

Those problems seem to arise the ones you never really thought of

The feeling you get is similar to something like drowning

Out of your mind, you're out of your depth, you should have taken soundings

Clutching at straws, we're clutching at straws

And if you ever come across us don't give us your sympathy

You can buy us a drink and just shake our hands

And you'll recognise by the reflection in our eyes

That deep down inside we're all one and the same

We're clutching at straws

We're still drowning Clutching at straws