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A quarter dead, and three quarters getting there Forever has fled in the blink of my eyes are So tired, and so dry, and so hurting How I long to swing on Robert's tall birches But I can't, because you won't let me I'm so dull, because that's how you made me So take my hand Don't let it go You so full of faith so full of youth Cracking teeth, brittle bones, and plastic hips Death's simple metaphor, tatoos and pierced lips The sky sends pictures to sift and sort through But all I can make is polluted air and nothing new So here I am, so broken down So alone like a verb without a noun Aus Songtexte Mania