I'm on my knees for the very last time until the morning
Then it's breaking me down pounding fist on the ground without warning
Falling up high
Higher than the ceiling
With twisted smiles we were trapeze wild out in the garden
That's ok we were born to be afraid of the warden
Falling up high
Higher than the ceiling
I think that I was maybe a barstool in a past life
I guess that I am making my way up in the world tonight
Banging my head against the day to day bell in a concrete shell
An American dream well I don't know, I don't know
But it sure as hell sells

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