Blood-shot eyes on factory floors, Filling up little bottles. The great depressed, the okay, the not sure. Empty out little pockets. If you stop believing let me know, Now we don't even show, Our feelings hide. What keeps deceiving, let it go, Now we don't even know, Our biggest prize, I'm not so sure, anymore. Blood-shot types wash up on the shore, Crawling out from the life boat. Creeping past all border control, Filling up empty promises. If you stop believing, let me know, Now we don't even show, Our feelings hide. Don't let yourself feel alive. You're the first this has happened to. We mix together. We mix together. We mix together.