So Far So Good

Lyrics

[Intro] Just a couple of weeks ago I was in Minneapolis, St. Paul Airport I was walking down the hall and all of a sudden I was confronted With a big poster, which said something to the effect: "Are you tired, exhausted, hurried, and harried? If so, we can take you away from all this in an escape machine" "An escape machine?", you might ask But you see, the really vital question: "Why am I tired, exhausted, hurried, and harried?" This question is what I ask [Verse 1: Sims] The whole world's turnin' now just for you Just for you, just for you The moon's burnin' out now just for you Just for you, just for you The whole world's turnin' now just for you Just for you, just for you The moon's burnin' out now just for you Just for you, just for you You've got the world on a string now, don't you? (Don't you?) It moves to the speed of your hands Command it at the snap of your digits You can spin it how you wanna spin it I'm just here to visit Just passin' through Maybe kick a few notes, you know? But I've been tone-deaf since my girl left, and it shows Buildin' a fire Lookin' for footprints in the snow Tap dancin' on landmines, angels, lead letters, and dead valentines The red Jettas, the vendettas, and tapped landlines And I'm on standby [Verse 2: Sims] And maybe it's the greatest maladaptation of our time Overworked and underpaid, the way we waste our minds, right? Barely stayin' afloat in the exponential growth So we try to ex the stencil and sketch our own But still feel the hands that are wrapped around our throats We stumble home, fumbling for control of the debris But it's hard to hold the weight So we wear poker faces and keep switchblades up our sleeves We are boxers fighting off the frost Choking on pride, exhausted and lost Now we survive, for what it's worth Finding our way with the filament burnt Lights out [Outro: Sims] We don't have time for passion anymore It's all metal poses and plastic petaled roses We just don't have time for passion anymore It's all metal poses and plastic petaled roses We don't have time for passion anymore It's all metal poses and plastic petaled roses We don't have time