I love a devil's birthday from the sky.
Instead of from the ground, it's coming down.
I saw clouds collide before my eyes
like salty sea foam when the tide is nigh.
It is short-lived glory that lives the most.
I'm making the best of the time I host.
I've been told to not hurry or rush myself,
but I'd rather live fast than die on a shelf.

Well, I'm sorry, but that isn't enough.
Well, you're sorry, but that isn't enough.

We nullify chances for happiness.
We're hopeless so, let's pack up and go.
I've seen myself sink deeper than the sea
starting at my toes, flooding past my teeth.
If there's no salvation for soulless men,
I better cover my tracks and where I've been.
This rope-a-dope hope game has no class.
I'm running out of time and I'm out of gas.

Well, I'm sorry, but that isn't enough.
Well, you're sorry, but that isn't enough.