I climb the wooden stairs to my apartment in the city

With dark brown molding and white walls

I search my bank account for traces of the forty-hour weeks

I’ve been working since last fall

Give me a list of alarms to set

I’ll tuck myself into bed

And hope that I can sleep in on the weekends

Another slave to a paycheck

A silent servant to my monthly rent

What’s keeping me from sinking in the deep end?

Now there’s something to be said for a firm lack of common sense

'cause god knows getting in the van isn’t paying rent

And now my older friends are all getting married with kids

And I’m just stoked to play a basement

What's right and wrong at times like these?

Give me a list of alarms to set

I’ll tuck myself into bed

And hope that I can sleep in on the weekends

Another slave to a paycheck

A silent servant to my monthly rent

What’s keeping me from sinking in the deep end?

And all I can do is stall

While the plans we make

Become grit in the storm drain’s teeth

And the rain is getting harder every week

Now the plans we make

Become grit in the storm drain’s teeth

And the puddles are growing deeper at my feet

Give me a list of alarms to set

I’ll tuck myself into bed

And hope that I can sleep in on the weekends

Another slave to a paycheck

A silent servant to my monthly rent

I'm sinking, I'm sinking

I'm sinking, I'm sinking, I'm saying I'm sinking again