I don't feel more dead, buried deeper
Or more joyful when I'm touching the sky
I'm just "Stuck in the middle" we-oh, we-oh, and I
I pierce the earth to be an individual
Making sparks once in a while
Decaying like a lightning bug just before the night
But I still feel young
I caught a bad infection
I'm aging in slow motion
Start with my wrists
It's so Christ-like
My bloodshot eyes started from my spine
And you don't understand
I'm gonna go without a fight
And maybe you can benefit from some of my rage
That's been there from an early age
It's done no good and I don't want to pass it down or pass it on, no
But I still feel young
I caught a bad infection
I'm aging in slow motion
Boarded up my home
Trying to relax on my front lawn
Waiting for the blood to boil
And send me to war
Send me to war
Blame it on the winter
Blame it on the sun
Blame it on the avalanche that tumbled and crushed
Blame it on the weekends
Blame it on the blues
That blocked the light from seeing the good in front of you
Blame it on the ones who blame it all on you
They did the best they could
But they couldn't pierce your skin
Blame it on the subtext
Blame it on disease
Blame it on the money
Blame it on the freeze
Blame it on the jester; the one who wears a frown
Blame it on the King, the Queen and burn this kingdom down
