I think this is the end of me
Seems appropriate to make a speech
The benefits of being high & lone
Some whiskey bottle for a microphone

Long night turned into day
Turned into long night
Do I just fade away?
Keep it up and you might get hurt
This burning out is just too much work

I only make the best mistakes
Hand crafted, and so well-placed
Blame myself because I could
Use a bit more guilt, pile it up, like

Would you like to see the next big thing?
Look in the mirror - I’ll look the other way.


Stare down the winding road
Streetlight sound & bitter cold
Separate plans for a selfless man
Pushing at the edges
Locking all the doors
Looking for a reason to do it like before
Punch in, check out
Ring me up for the next round
Sell me another version
One where this is working
In which I’m a different person


While away, take up a collection
Make up a bunch of missed connections
And try to recollect when
The odds were in favour

Of doing this whole thing better
And passing pretension
Off as a trend
Just like having friends

Forgetting the pitfalls
Phone calls and old halls
Talking walls of sound
With peeling painted reverb
Bounced and mixed to shimmer
In the light of every flame
Held high against the grain
And stained with blood

Bar shows TV shows no shows
Filling in filling up and filling out
All this paperwork, no clean shirts
Arguing over who did it first


As you stare down
The winding road
Let’s get found before it’s all sold
To the lowest bidder
Overpaid quota hitters
Factory farm team winners
But at least we got a free dinner out of the deal.