Home- home in the late-night
And away- away in the half-life
Except Saturday- crushed by the boring
Until played and plagued again by the tourists
When once you had believed it
Now you see it's s**ing you in
To string you along with the pretense
And pave the way for the coming release
Alone and prone in the half-light
And late- late to the real-life
If you find a way into the gold rush
You will stay until the morning comes
You can normalize
Don't it make you feel alive