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