Isolation is an art
You'll make it through
But you might not
Hold on tight
It's alright to cry
I'd be joining you
But my brain is fried
My conscience is a shitty guide
Complaining all the f*cking time
Like the borrowers
We're in and out of cabinets
Bed bug, I never leave this mattress
Need to get out of this attic
Go play out in traffic
This could be the start of the ending
When we wander out of the wreckage
Feet dragging, you can see where I live
I don't know who I am or where you've been
Hope you pick up your pen
And start again
I'd be joining you
But my brain is fried
My conscience is a shitty guide
Complaining all the f*cking time