Our Sunday Affairs

Curbing Your Enthusiasm
We were born here We were born here Why don't you remember Sprouting in April under terrible weather? I searched for god but I found myself Rotting away inside an empty house Everyone's gone or everyone's going To far off lands inside steel cities I put it off but it's not helping Everyone here is so fucking busy Everything's changed or everything's changing I'd cut my hair but it won't stop growing I shout at myself about keeping my chin up My thoughts splinter and spill all of my guts Wasted this youth in tree tops with alcohol I'm not my father, I won't be held responsible How could I ever call this home? The air's too dry and the ground's too cold I'm still too stupid to not dig holes And I can't split their thoughts from my own Aus Songtexte Mania