Coffee stains on my paper-crowded desk,
sleepless numbers and wise men facts,
Someone who left just left a ring
for the sake of what might had been,
Been swinging my whiskey shot through the dusk light,
it's orange and it tastes kind of bland,
The well-paid job, the nice wife's bliss,
never cared 'bout all those things,
All those things that drove me insane,
Why should we live for them in vain?
If I'm dying anyway.
Knew a man who once loved someone,
and yes he got his broken heart,
And though he had it all he felt just
like he had been torn apart,
Spent his days writing love songs, what a fool he is,
Isn't he? For caring 'bout all those things
All those things that drove me insane,
Why should we live for them in vain?
Why should we die?
If I'm dying anyway.
Isn't here where we came in?

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