Endless evenings of non-exist Are getting shorter, monotonous Like an intruder, I belong outside Although I find myself right back The same place I was before Saying things I`d say once more There`s no reason for me to be here, no I feel so lonesome, surrounded by friends Who are talking at me, saying things I could care less about This dialogue is without Worth, content, significance Conversational ambivalence Hear the same things every night, it just ain`t right Who`ll be left holding the bag?
Give me something I can`t sink my teeth into Show me a time, tell me a story I haven`t heard a million times before I pass out from boredom As I watch the people pass I see moments in their lives, nothing fascinating Are we all living for the past, never realizing We`re clinging to an empty bag
Lacking content, significance Conversational ambivalence Hear the same things every night, it just ain`t right We`ll see who`s left holding the bag
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