Paroles de Stale Coffee

big city friction factors in the 8 month blues that settle in when there's nothing you can't get over, you'll let it all ride on a 4-leaf cover let's count hours, let's count days let's count the people counting ways of keeping up with the static quo, and i'm still waiting for the punchline to the joke that no one's getting is there anybody else who's looking for a foxhole out from the 4 walls that they're stuck between i can't laugh or be offended who the god they're grabbing turns to lead and the more they get the more they let it weigh them down the daily diatribe begins the stale coffee smells like shit visionaries are out of focus econochrist defeats the purpose let's count dollars, let's count cents pocket the check, spare the expense and every friday sign your life away on the dotted punchline