A bunch of children running the world
Runnin blind in the wild
Childlike
Cutting each other down
Running out of space
And she's taking off her clothes
One by one
She won't pick up the phone
Till its all gone
In the nighttime she's so clear
By day I run from fear
You’ll beg her to stay
But she'll never hear
She's out the door
See you next year
My friendsister or something
Started crying on the phone
I said nothing
Apathetic
Are we all forty- something the walking wounded
war veterans of love
When she puts her makeup on
It's on
All the way home
She lives in a world of hate
She lives in a guilty space
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