Paper People

Looking at black old souls and feeling fine

People will pass the dead all the time

This kind of man is never out of date

From my room I smell their hate

Living in a small box that you call home

Mirror knows that you are all alone

Feeling too old and fat to make a sound

To this ugly world you feel bound

You don't need the money, don't you know

You don't need to see the sun you know

You are old

You are old

This street looks alike the one before

The paper people I secretly adore

This drink makes me talk of love and hate

Maybe babe it's not too late

You don't need the money, don't you know

You don't need to see the sun you know

You are old

You are old

You give me a day of what life means

You laugh to go home to make your youth real

You are old

You are old