Quitters

A dying breath
Your life to words
On display for those with
Presidents on paper
And it turns
Blue skies to grey
While we say
All the wrong things anyway

I'm running low
Was once misfortunes foe
Today we drive as the earth it turns
In hopes of finding happiness in a room
Behind a stage in a city you could burn
To the ground
Because this aint your home is it?
I'd normally try to smile but fuck it!

I'm running low
Was once misfortunes foe
Dont cut the tension
Let it flow
Burn all your bridges as the crow
Clutches the night
And your insides

Reserve the morning (woah oh!)
For saying only what you don't mean
Too much to drink not enough sleep
Living far beyond (woah oh!)
Your means with a transient mans reach
Incredulous you stop and think
You stop to think!