Headache. Manchester Orchestra at work. Hobo dead. I feel like a giant, a giant ready to explode (or maybe implode, I never know).
when I took the blame
we layed in ruins trying to quote your phrase
we're yelling, "someone's got the answers,
but I'd rather think there's nothing to be found"
I owe money to a lot of people. I think the bad guys are going to break down my doors any day now. They'll drag me out by my ankles; through the street and into their van. You might find a bloody fingernail stuck in the carpet. I'll try, but it won't be enough.
Congratulations, Nation. You've won this round. Congratulations New York State. Always stickin' it to the little guys. I have had enough.
I can hardly see what's in front of me these days, those days too.
Haven't you had your fill?