Nothing here is perfect, no everything’s the same as the place that I just left and I’m trapped inside this box. I’m never getting out of here again. I’ve got a budget priced guitar, I’ve got metaphor and rhyme. I’ve got a lyrical agenda and drums to stay in time... but it doesn’t mean I’m happy singing words that I don’t mean and it doesn’t mean I’m happy spending money I don’t need. I’ll try not to get hungry - I’ve been reading up on greed. It’s the new generosity and we’re all guilty.
Lyrics submitted by delial