Why am I lagging behind on this mad minutia
While misled editors attempt to recut my future?
Strike up the band if you still can or sneak through a trapdoor
And sell your organs if they don't make music anymore
I tried to pretend that it's over
Clicking my heels till it's over
Picking at scabs till it's over
Oh, I'll miss you as planned when it's over
The tragedy of longevity is one day I'll need you
And all I'll find are ragged linings of hollow tissue
Screwed to a shell of red blood cells, but we finally get paid
I lost you in the mail, I lost you all in a slave trade
I tried to pretend that it's over
Clicking my heels till it's over
Picking at scabs till it's over
Oh, I'll miss you as planned, I'm a soldier
Taking dead aim at the sober
Bullseye of the beholder
And I'll miss you as planned
I will miss you as planned if I can
Can we make it stop with both hands?