Dry swallow the day, wash it down with something else later
Press down a little harder and rub up against a stranger
Living an existence of fallen in the lap
Heaps and mounds I'm sifting through for the sake of busy hands
I'd rather be boring
I like those soft sciences
Now sometimes I get high
Off the day and from scratch starting
But when I crawl into bed I pull the shades down much too far
I can't see the dusk but the same goes for dawn
Here's the laughter and the smiles
They never had the sense to leave me
Following that leader
Reading that script I didn't write
I've become too indifferent
Towards a taste I shied away from
Except a numb tongue tastes nothing
And so on I keep this shit up
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