He's thinking of the hungry rats
|
Inside his stomach and he knows that
|
Nothing ever changes anyway
|
|
He can see himself there
|
He knows that look, it's called despair
|
His father taught him to wear it well
|
|
So he put his ear to the door of his youth
|
And he heard a groundswell of remorse now
|
|
There's no splendid isolation
|
For the abandoned generation
|
|
It gets hard to maintain
|
When the brightest of shells
|
Weather and fade anyway
|
Do what you can before it's too late
|
|
Arms stretched, she's on her back
|
Her hollow words ring from her past
|
She's been running from that every day
|
|
She can see herself there
|
She knows that look, it's called despair
|
Her mother taught her to wear it well
|
|
She puts her ear to the door of her youth
|
And she heard a groundswell of remorse now
|
|
There's no splendid isolation
|
For the abandoned generation
|
|
It gets hard to maintain
|
When the brightest of shells
|
Weather and fade anyway
|
Do what you can before it's too late
|
|
I spent a lifetime searching with tired eyes
|
I had the best intentions but they went away
|
|
-----------------
|
Splendid Isolation
|
Dead To Me |