Is this really all there is? Cough syrup to sleep 'Til an alarm clock reminds us to breath What if we don't set the damn thing? I suppose it is what it is Nothing more, nothing less The lucky ones are born into it The rest of us work Two sets of fiery eyes Two sacks of dry skin Too much to do, so little time Coffin Companions Early to bed, and weary to rise The girl with work to do A boy with two thorns in his side
Of all the coffins in all the dreadful corners of the world You chose mine, and I, yours. Singin' And dancin' And achin' Are overrated Here lies: The King and Queen Of the self medicated Coffin Companions The whispers found a place to hide Now we can age with grace and silence I won't speak until spoken to I won't ask for love like the others do Just close my eyes and let the medicine kick in