| Treating your days like a countdown | |
| Seconds pass by, waiting just to blow up | |
| And you get nothing done | |
| And this is what you want | |
| Lost touch and | |
| You turn your back and your some friend | |
| Sterile conversation | |
| Learn to talk a good game | |
| Talk your way out, it's a sure thing | |
| Testing the ends of what they'll put up with | |
| You got your chance to say what you wanted to | |
| But you never do | |
| Stand up to the ones that keep you down | |
| Now you can see right through it all | |
| Lost touch and | |
| Tracing your steps you can't begin | |
| You can't start | |
| To say what your thinking and why not | |
| Talk your way out, it's a sure thing | |
| Testing the ends of what they'll put up with | |
| Sticking it out 'til you can't get up | |
| How many times have you been pacified? | |
| Accepting it when you're told, there's no way | |
| Making sure there never will | |
| Sticking it out 'til you can't get up | |
| How many times have you been pacified? | |
| Accepting it when you're told, there's no way | |
| Making sure there never will | |
| Testing the ends of what they put up with |
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