In the soft sulfur mines where these days went to waste,
You learned that knowing the recipe could ruin the taste,
And as those pictures of diamonds turn back into coal,
Pain killers comfort the head, but leave damaged the soul,
Your mind wanders through alleys where false lovers roam,
Leaving you with souvenirs and stories, but no place to call home,
You search for life here, between the miles and goodbyes,
While buried deep underneath these cold granite skies,
Where you dream about bright lights and running away,
Only to wake up with nobody listening and nothing to say,
Caving in before your catalytic converter heart starts to stall,
Your only mark on the world, another scratch in the wall.