More than making it to payday
More than making it to the weekend
More than making it to the end of the shift
More than making it to retirement
Can you tell there is more, than living until we’re covered in boards
Can you see the distractions as wheels, how underneath it all something squeals
No more. No more.
Drugs, drink, food, sex, pills, entertainment, paychecks don’t satisfy long enough, open your eyes
Promises of peace from those who lie won’t act as a lullaby, we’ve tried pretending we’re a few laws away from perfection
Everyone has all the answers spinning every tire in the mud swearing the next rotation will be the way out
No more. No more.
