Strapped into the dent of a desk
|
Sick of all the pressure invested in pretense
|
I shuffle out to the deck
|
Where all the smokers sound off
|
One witness sighs in distress
|
Her sour face reflected in metal
|
Pulling from a pocket
|
I up and ask
|
And as she passes that flask
|
A sour face for all the
|
Sorrow replaced with alcohol
|
Everybody's working for the weak
|
And only when I sleep
|
Can I feel stronger
|
I don't care what you think
|
Cause I won't wait here to much longer
|
The two of us at two fifteen
|
The two of us in love
|
With whiskey
|
Then in that moment we realize
|
Shivering in the cold
|
We've sold our souls
|
And don't even smoke
|
Everybodys working for the weak
|
And only when I dream can I feel stronger
|
I don't care what you think
|
Cause I won't wait here
|
Too much longer
|
Stop what you're doing now
|
What are you doing now
|
While everybody's working for the weak
|
You'll still be asleep
|
Knowing you got out
|
And don't care what they think
|
About those dreams you carry around
|
Everybody's working for the weak
|
I don't care what you think
|
Cause I won't wait here
|
Too much longer
|
longer
|
longer
|
longer....
|
|
-----------------
|
Everybody's Working For The Weak
|
| Hey Mercedes |
