Print

On a canvas of brake lights, street signs and garbage cans He's a face without a name, with a pair of outstretched hands And me I'm just an asshole living in a priviledged life Wondering why these modern conveniences don't make me alive Ever get the feeling that there's nothing you can do? Ever start to wonder if you're just acting out a role written for you? Living in with these lonely alibis and weekly wages Our homes, our jobs, our lives, our cages There's a girl staring out of her window into a rainy night Thinking of the prices that she pays, the self-loathing and sacrifice And meanwhile I pace this lonely office space for another 8 hour night Asking myself how to work to stay alive could be called a life Ever get the feeling that this world's written you off? Ever get the feeling you're imprisoned by expectations and jobs? Dreary morning, city bus, sea of dejected faces Our homes, our jobs, our lives, our cages Aus Songtexte Mania