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Lyrics
utopia in white picket fences, the paint ages and scrapes; revealing the cold prison bars, while the angels are off key; dont come with that dictionary, you call bible, you call theories; trying to find the meaning of life, when only we can write it; thinking outside the box is closed minded to the box.
chorus trying to make sense, makes no sense, existence is nonsense, angry with no reason.
i knew a man with skeletons in his closet and one was his own grey bones, he had a coin to scratch and to see what he've been gambling for, betting it all, even his soul since he was so drugged with hope; unknown that every damn day is just another day closer to death, but if i granted him immortality, he'd probably never feel alive.
repeat chorus
dont fly in that cape, be eye-to-eye, oil me up, a gear to your machine; tie ribbons as if im worth something but they are only chains, they love to label things with one word, add a hyphen if it gets too hard; i was never afraid to question what they seem to have already answered, pointing at me with an accusing finger, same finger that pulled the trigger.
repeat chorus
