Is it wrong, is it right?
When the time of your life will end up being the way that you will die
Ten times out of nine
Going out in fashionable style
I wish we could become better people
Better off with the urge to lose my senses is my drive
It's keeping me alive
It seems to be the tick of our time
Inside, outside
My words, they don't work no more
I'm sure
I'll try
With the air of it all
I'm beneath the tide
A blue-skied Sunday morning
Dead to the world
A single chunk of my time
Has come and gone
Ten times out of nine
