morning breaks

Crowd of kids with your hair all did.

Man, you look so nervous.

It’s all gravy til the money’s gone, baby,

Then it's over with.

It’s all the same, man,

Those winds of change

You bought us with.

It’s all gravy, til the truck’s stuck, baby,

Then it’s over with.

I’ve got $175.

Just smoked my last cigarette,

Hope that it’s for good this time.

Morning breaks with a gin headache, novacaine.

It was so easy when it felt worth keeping, now it’s burdening.

I’m wide awake on a pointless day,

those suicide machines.

It was so easy when I felt like screaming.

Now no one wants to dream.

I’ve got one dollar and seventy due.

I’ll keep handling my own shit that no one knows I’m going through.

But I’m a canvas, whose approval do I need?

I wrote a record and it fucked a whole company.

What’s the matter, man?

It’s shattered and it’s over.

Give it up now, you’re only getting older -

But you want to live in the golden age,

before the fall,

when all they said was,

“Sorry, what you made just isn’t good enough.”

It’s a funny feeling when a dream you never owned gets stolen.

The promises you told yourself amount to shit,

and now it’s over.

This is the sound of a mind gone wild and blinded,

So blame it on whatever,

and then take the parts of you you hate and hide them.

That bank says $175.

I’ll keep living on a humble paycheck and waiting out my time.