Quitters

A dying breath

Your life to words

On display for those with Presidents on paper

And it turns

Blue skies to grey

While we say

All the wrong things anyway

I'm running low

Was once misfortunes foe

Today we drive as the earth it turns

In hopes of finding happiness in a room

Behind a stage in a city you could burn

To the ground

Because this aint your home is it?

I'd normally try to smile but fuck it!

I'm running low

Was once misfortunes foe

Dont cut the tension

Let it flow

Burn all your bridges as the crow

Clutches the night

And your insides

Reserve the morning (woah oh!)

For saying only what you don't mean

Too much to drink not enough sleep

Living far beyond (woah oh!)

Your means with a transient mans reach

Incredulous you stop and think

You stop to think!

I'm running low was once misfortunes foe