Bad time are coming but;
        we act like we don't know
                     its been a long time coming;
                     we've been down this road.
                                               we know how the Story ends,
                                                           ­               history's been told.

We set off on the right path,
                  end up chasing gold.
                  by the time it loses its glitters,
                                               we are way too old.

Life is as bitter as the blistering cold,
                  it will break your heart,
                  just so it can throw out the mold,
                                                  and sell your soul.

Being the only one awake in the back seat, or the only one thinking loudly,
and in the back of  your mind, sitting there like living weight, you've got
the giant Citgo sign
(you swear you could fit in the T),
listening to passion pit as the golden sun flings itself on the highway,
a construction worker lowering his pants in front of a dumpster,
hearing the sandlot play downstairs as you stare at the dark ceiling,
pizza you ate in the park the evening before now being had for breakfast,
finding out the **** is pro-choice,
getting your shoulder squeezed on a rollercoaster
by a boy who screams like a girl,         
feeling drunk even though you're sober,
running through the dark,
passing trailers with round lanterns lining the tops,
outlining shirtless men and smoking women,
looking in the mirror after swimming with your clothes on
in a hot tub,
and you're not sure if you're
beautiful
or
disgusting.
Yeah, you can sleep now.