It's a mass grave
A dollar-fifty resting place
On the north face
There's a rope I've gotta climb
I'm a stone's throw from everyone I love and know
But I can't show up looking like I do
In an old suit, my hair is slicked back nice and smooth
In a court room, sweat rolling down my back
It's a bad dream
I have it seven times a week
No it was not me
But I'm the one who has to die

Needs a cold draw to slow his tachycardia
In a dark bar this world just melts away
And it feels fine
Your feet can just lose track of time
It's a good sign when he can stay awake
On a slow day the rain against the windowpane of the cafe
She spills the coffee grounds
And the same thought hits her like a cinder block
Life's an odd job that she don't got the nerve to quit

Now it's just there
At the bottom of those spiral stairs
It's the world's fair
The future's on display
In the dark night
They turned on the electric lights
And the crowd cried out
Everyone looks so amazed

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Conor M. Oberst