At the risk of sounding obsolete
My sentiment is not complete
Without the air of customary dread
You see I'm melancholy to the core
Ain't life a bitch, I want more
But I'm winning just by waking up in bed
Contemplated all the thoughts supreme
What is my American dream?
And is there life after you meet your death?
Should I buy that random scratch off ticket?
Pray the gods of wealth will fix it
Promises that fade right into debt
But I'm so tired
Oh I'm tired
But I'm not giving up no I'm not ready yet
I'm so tired
Oh I'm tired
Of this goddamned mess
Well the lady at the checkout line told me my card had just declined
Politely pointed me right to the door
She said hey, sweetie don't let it get you down
Ain't nobody got bread in this town
Except the crooks, the bankers, and the whores
See my husband he walked out on me
Left without a note to read
Just the marks out on the driveway from his tires
So I joined the 9 to 5 machine to pay my rent and chase a dream
Cause hoping and a praying don't make fires
But I'm so tired
Oh I'm tired
But I'm not giving up no I'm not ready yet
I'm so tired
Oh I'm tired
Of this goddamned mess
You are not alone out in this fight
Take my hand, walk towards the light
Find forgiveness you could never seek
For the middle is no place to live
And tragedy no time to give
Except the space to ask what makes us free
But we're so tired
Oh we're tired
But we're not giving up no we're not ready yet
We're so tired
Oh we're tired
And we're not giving up no we're not looking back from this goddamned mess