how come you always say that you’re not happy with the way things happened to you?
as if you could catch life in your palms
just wringing it dry
night after night
I’m talking to you
wringing it dry
night after night...

how come I always play the same old tired song yeah day into day?
it’s all that I ever had, the strangest whim to play
well I’m playing for you
I’m ringing it true
wringing it dry
night after night...

how come you always take to flight whenever something new comes sailing your way?
it’s just like you always said, the strong ones burn away
well who’s burning for you?
who’s bringing it true?
wringing it dry
night after night?

high strung, and curious rage
I bear that stain
our hearts bound, in tandem chained
here we now remain:

it’s not getting easier with time
it’s not what you think...
(if/do you think at all?)

I must have lost my way
I looked away, now I can’t remember a damn thing...

it’s the same old tune, the same old song and dance
it’s the same old sky, we wither and die away
the things you use, the words you choose to say
these you see as different...

well I couldn’t hold that door
I can’t believe that which was speaking through me...

(lock the door) the cultured beast is a hideous freak to view
it’s the same old war, the age old bore ... today
the gods you seek, the words you choose to say
none of these are different,
they are the same...

we’re not the same
but is what we seek so different?