It's a mass grave, adollar-fifty resting place

On the north face, it's a rope I've gotta climb

I'm a stone's throw from everyone I love and know

But I can't show up looking like I do

In an old suit, my hair is slicked up back nice and smooth

In a courtroom, sweat rolling down my back

It's a bad dream, I have it seven times a week

No, it's not me, but I'm the one who has to die

Needs a cold draw to slow his tachycardia

In a dark bar this world just melts away

And he feels fine if he can just lose track of time

It's a good sign when he can't stay awake

On a slow day the rain against the windowpane of the café

She spills the coffee grounds

And the same thought hits her like cinder block

Life's an odd job that she don't got the nerve to quit

Now it's just there at the bottom of those spiral stairs

It's the World's Fair, the future's on display

In the dark night, they turned on the electric lights

And the crowd cried out, everyone looks so amazed