I'm tired but I'm still listening to you
Sip coffee while you sort out the world with the air of a ghost
If these numbers add up, if these pieces fit and I make any sense
Will you take me home and help me out of myself?

The latest polls are coming in and I'm being ousted
The glass breaks, I feel fake
Dress me up in funeral colors and stab me with smiles
And leave me out in the cold...

I'll be quiet.
I like to go insane, but I see no reason to play games with
some one of broken stature, love is always in the way of something
I'm not a fighter pilot, more of a screen door fantasy; see thru me.
This spot's reserved for something I just can't seem to find anywhere.

Backwards solution, the California question,
Our situation backs up the world for a night in your head,
Drum up the answers, or just fake a moment,
Or just give me something to open my eyes: a reality pill

Comatose and caffiene-bred, our hero deflates
As a silence surrounds him
Stuck in rooms with ghosts and liars, he feels more at home
Than he did in your arms...

I'll be quiet.
I like to go insane, but I see no reason to play games with
some one of broken stature, love is always in the way of something
I'm not a fighter pilot, more of a screen door fantasy; see thru me.
This spot's reserved for something I just can't seem to find anywhere

(Thanks to Chelsea for these lyrics)

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