[Intro]

Just a couple of weeks ago I was in Minneapolis, St. Paul Airport

I was walking down the hall and all of a sudden I was confronted

With a big poster, which said something to the effect:

"Are you tired, exhausted, hurried, and harried?

If so, we can take you away from all this in an escape machine"

"An escape machine?", you might ask

But you see, the really vital question:

"Why am I tired, exhausted, hurried, and harried?"

This question is what I ask

[Verse 1: Sims]

The whole world's turnin' now just for you

Just for you, just for you

The moon's burnin' out now just for you

Just for you, just for you

The whole world's turnin' now just for you

Just for you, just for you

The moon's burnin' out now just for you

Just for you, just for you

You've got the world on a string now, don't you? (Don't you?)

It moves to the speed of your hands

Command it at the snap of your digits

You can spin it how you wanna spin it

I'm just here to visit

Just passin' through

Maybe kick a few notes, you know?

But I've been tone-deaf since my girl left, and it shows

Buildin' a fire

Lookin' for footprints in the snow

Tap dancin' on landmines, angels, lead letters, and dead valentines

The red Jettas, the vendettas, and tapped landlines

And I'm on standby

[Verse 2: Sims]

And maybe it's the greatest maladaptation of our time

Overworked and underpaid, the way we waste our minds, right?

Barely stayin' afloat in the exponential growth

So we try to ex the stencil and sketch our own

But still feel the hands that are wrapped around our throats

We stumble home, fumbling for control of the debris

But it's hard to hold the weight

So we wear poker faces and keep switchblades up our sleeves

We are boxers fighting off the frost

Choking on pride, exhausted and lost

Now we survive, for what it's worth

Finding our way with the filament burnt

Lights out

[Outro: Sims]

We don't have time for passion anymore

It's all metal poses and plastic petaled roses

We just don't have time for passion anymore

It's all metal poses and plastic petaled roses

We don't have time for passion anymore

It's all metal poses and plastic petaled roses

We don't have time