We have to cut you loss sir
we’ve got a million mouths on strike
everybody’s talking so who’s right?
one’s a profit one’s a loser
he treats his mornings like their nights
collasing though he’s always fresh and ripe
All my teachers were all failed authors
even though you dance you’re dancing
cheek to cheek with them
my night’s been ruined by bows and actors who’ve all grown soft and try to give it all away

You can’t consider
there’s been no offer
even know it’s best to keep your mouth quiet
and thought I hate to say it all the bills were late
and all that shit you pull
we look the other way
and you’ve all grown soft and try to give it all away


Lyrics submitted by songintheair

A Thousand Actors song meanings
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