You see the empty man
Stealing clint he slowly fades away
So say the altered man
Talking hands of those he throws away

There is no ceiling
There is no feeling
Cigarettes, sweet regrets, it's myopic dreaming

This is the master plan
Riding shots with nothing left to
Say she is the contraband
Selling price with nothing left to pay

There is no ceiling
There is no feeling
Cigarettes, sweet regrets now I'm prone to drinking
There is no ceiling
There is no feeling
Cigarettes, sweet regrets, it's myopic dreaming

Myopic dreaming

You've got to stand to be seen
You've got to speak to be hurt
You've got to stand to be seen
You've got to speak to be hurt

There is no ceiling
There is no feeling
Cigarettes, sweet regrets, it's myopic dreaming
There is no ceiling
There is no feeling
Cigarettes, sweet regrets, it's myopic dreaming