Coping Mechanisms

It's so foggy
And there's nothing to do but put on the old soundtrack
Much too silent
So I play the drums, so I play because
I can't see anything

When I'm by myself I can't get enough
I spend hours working on what's on my shelf
But I don't have much time, I never get enough
Thinking about these songs I can't help myself
I don't have much time, I never get enough
Thinking about these songs I can't help myself

It's so foggy
And there's nothing to do but turn on the old soundtrack
Much too silent
So I play the drums, so I play because
I can't see anything

Staring at the old clock radio
Seeing all these pictures, where'd they go?
I grab a magazine, I'm staring at those pictures
And they all look back and I can hear them whisper
I grab a magazine, I'm staring at those pictures
And they all look back and I can hear them whisper

Get off the couch. You're an adult, God Damnit

Said, "Get off the couch. You're an adult, God Damnit."
She said, "Get off the couch. You're an adult, God Damnit."

Get off the couch. You're an adult, God Damnit

She said, "Get off the couch. You're an adult, God Damnit."



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