Lost causes and hopeless romantics

Far from feeling like a chore
Run around the same old sore...
Spots that wear a stoic grin
But stoics always wind up thin

And all of those things
Add up to nothing

They go round and round and round
And all of it is just repeated sound

All the things we used to be
Are ashes and the fallen leaves
Autumn spring and all the lore
Feel me old and like a chore

And all of those things
Add up to nothing



Credits
Writer(s): Jacob Colburn
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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