Endgame

And that's another thing I baulk as I'm chalking a cue We're post-punk, post-truth, post-Europe, post-youth Post-modern, post-faith and God, and post-post too As music with nothing to say plays on the radio Snooker myself more in tryin' to pull off something bolder If everything's behind us, where's the point in growing older? I think too much about everything Am I losing touch of this game I'm in? I don't know Now he's picking a pocket Forcing me cause a scene All words are infective, all memories selective Yeah, the proof is in my Putin, as truth crumbles the perspective I think too much about everything Am I losing touch of this game I'm in? I know I think too much about everything And I'm losing touch I'm losing touch I know I think too much about everything And I care too much about what I think 'Cause I regret every time I drink When it turns me into It turns into someone I hate