What's your excuse now?
You've got lies repeating on a loop
and your eyes admit the colder atmosphere around the truth.
What do you expect now?
You've got us burning at the wheel.
Too much gasoline in our lungs and we don't remember how to feel.

I've got a match that could pretend to solve our problems
and you've got the glass of your impending doom.
So what's your excuse now when you're beating at the coffin door?
"Let me in, I don't wanna be here."
No more games, this is real.
"Sobriety has left me home to feel humane
and it's insane 'cause I don't care anymore."

And it won't be long now when the walls start caving in
around your bedroom and the sheets will fly away.
No protection, no selection of the promises that you had failed to mention
in the suicidal sanctuary of your home.
How long before the break of day?
The night that's over ends the sober feeling of regret
that rests inside the words you say.

I know you think you can pretend
but you're a lie and you're a fake.
Another broken heart to take
and you say you don't mind.
I couldn't mind, I'm indifferent to your cries.
You're so pathetic
but I know a place where rain won't make the flowers grow.

I don't want to save you.
I've given up, so tell me, are you more content now?
As you're swallowing your pride, I'm smoking away mine.
I just don't want to deal with you anymore,
but maybe it's just a different state of mind.
We'll go to separate Edens
where you'll live alone and die in this fit
of sour brokenness that survives inside the lie you call your life.