Directionless and oh, so tired
Now listen here, the boy's no liar
If you knew that which he'd been through
There would be nothing left of you

Ambition burns inside his head
You think he looks like he is dead
That might be because he's halfway there
You're not distraught, you still don't care

Tortured by a sense of pride
He cries for the girl standing by his side
If your tears had been of no comfort to you
You, too would not know what to do

A cigarette, a glass of wine
An ashen stare, he stands in line
He used to be so much like me
But now less so: he's dead, you see.