Well I know he's alive and tricking me into all sorts of things
Bless his soul, bless his mind
He is cold, He is blind
And I know he's wearing out after all these years
And I'll find him dead some morning in my bedroom
He'll have painted all my windows black
Soon I won't have a single dose of tact at all
And I just came back from coffee and I didn't bring my mind
What's the use, it's gone dry
No excuse, no goodbye
And I've locked eyes with a tombstone he doesn't sleep he engineers thoughts
I'll be dead one morning in my bedroom
I'll have covered all my walls with crayon
Obituary reads, “Who's to blame for this disastrous plan?”
Imagine what you could make if your muse hadn't killed herself
And after all these mistakes my life's no better than hell
Maybe delaying the wake wasn't best but I'm starting to tell
No matter what road you take there are spots with bone-dry wells
I was talking to a man one day and he couldn't tell a lie
Time has flown, we will die
We're alone, it's alright
And in time we'll be forgotten every single mortal soul
But you'll be alive one morning in your bedroom
The sun will crack your windows, shake your walls
And you will wake up; realize the walk was worth a thousand falls
