He says he sells an escape
With an hour forty up projected (?)
Scooped in goodness
A brand new moral revelation
For anyone who's hungry to be
Leaving, eating
My lungs are so tired
So sick of all this singing
My posters, my CDs
Heartbreaking, my heart remade
Shouldn't be
And to think he wouldn't escape
Till he had to leave
And oh, all the feelings plague our heroes on TV
All these perverts in my headphones
Talk to me when I was young
And listening to them
Now their prose sounds clumsy
Like they're trying to be anything but honest, often
My lungs are so tired
So sick of all this singing
My posters, my CDs
Heartbreaking, my heart remade
Shouldn't be
And to think he wouldn't escape
Till he had to leave
And oh, all the feelings plague our heroes on TV
No trust for the song of the Summer, baby
No trust for the song of the Spring
The tune is stuck in my head
But now I can't just get to leave
Oh, what a horrible feeling listening
Oh, to someone who does nothing