Home, home in the late, night And away, away in the half, life Except Saturday, crushed by the boring Until played and plagued by the tourists again 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 will find a way into the gold rush You will stay until the morning comes You will normalize Don't it make you feel alive