Speak the truth even if it makes your voice shake
You backed up more than you could take
So most nights you try to rest your head
A droning fever gets you back
Scattered in one hundred pieces that won't match
A delay in your back and your toes at the edge
All engines are go, you're the stick in the spoke
The record of your failures is written all over your face
And you can't cover that savage grimace
No motion in your years of vice
You're running out of alibis
Speak the truth even if it makes your voice shake
These hands are nothing but a keepsake
How you used to be, all pristine and eager
When you were a charmer, not a sleeper
In the days when skins didn't stretch
And you kept your gospels on the verge
The record of your failures is written all over your face
And you can't cover that savage grimace
No motion in your years of vice, you're running out of alibis
Another song just pa**ed you by
Every single step you take seems to be improvised
Between each interval the exact pause
To bargain a dozen for a single cause
In the end it's mine to choose what matters
But I'm getting better, I'm getting there!
The record of my failures is written all over my face
And I can't cover that savage grimace
No motion in my years of vice, I'm running out of alibis