| Live like a slave | |
| With no holidays | |
| How many ways | |
| Did you count the days? | |
| But it feels so good to be gone | |
| From my own kind | |
| What's in a name? | |
| And propped on a grave | |
| What good is a home | |
| When nobody's home? | |
| Yeah, it feels so good to be gone | |
| From my own kind | |
| Yeah, it feels so good to be done | |
| With my own mind | |
| Mindless, carry me home | |
| Mindless, carry me home | |
| And I didn't want anything else | |
| But listen to what we expect | |
| Looking for careful | |
| But looking for honest | |
| Excited and on-time | |
| With a universal mind | |
| I won't live like a slave | |
| And I won't bury my name | |
| I won't tell you my lies | |
| I won't run from my grave | |
| Oh mindless, carry me home | |
| Mindless, carry me home | |
| Mindless, carry me home | |
| 'Cause it feels so good to be gone | |
| Yeah, it feels so good to be gone |
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