I've been at so many crossroads That I've forgotten all the turns And I've spent all my money On ways to wipe out my concerns
But the therapy in a tall glass of gin Is not something that leaves you blissful within
In the morning The daylight is broken Just like the night before And we keep sending a mayday That never reaches the shore
The more that you sleep the more tired you get I try to forgive but it's hard
When you turn me over To the war Turn me over To the war
The therapy in a tall glass of gin Is not something that leaves you blissful within
I've seen so many faces With masks made out of clay So stiff and immobile Just like the games they play
The more that you sleep the more tired you get I try to forgive but it's hard to forget How good it would feel to be senseless and numb To not really care at all
When you turn me over To the war Turn me over To the war
