If you can only write about the things that you know best
I guess I can’t really sing songs about myself?
And we never really stood a chance at all, actually
We were bred to always believe in tragedy
But I never really knew how greased the pole was gonna be

And it all just seems, like one long bad dream
And what’s it gonna take to wake me up?
But I’ll walk through fire just to preserve our memories
And what’s it gonna take to wake you up?

I can see thе writing’s on the wall, already
At 3am in a bathroom stall in Queens
And we nеver really had a choice at all, actually
Cos we were bred to always believe in tragedy…yep
Now all the things I saved for best are starting to look a mess

And it all just seems, like one long bad dream
And what’s it gonna take to wake me up?
But I’ll walk through fire just to preserve our memories
So what’s it gonna take to wake you up?

Sometimes it’s the weak that has to carry the strong
Sometimes when we cry people just call it a song
Sometimes in this world you have to straddle the gun
Sometimes it’s the old that has to bury the young