Throw my guitar down on the floor
No one cares what I've got to say anymore
I didn't come here to be damned with faint praise
I'll write my masterpiece some other day
(Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do)
(Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do) fuck everything, fuck me

I'm repeating myself again
Innovation, I leave to smarter men
Pretty melodies don't fall out of the air for me
I've got to steal them from somewhere
But it doesn't matter what you do or how hard you try (hard you try)
Now there's nothing left for me to do except die
When they cut you up
They'll tell you that it's not going to hurt
But they are not going to stop until they see you go to sleep in the dirt

And there'll be no more cigarettes
No more having sex
No more drinking until you fall on the floor
No more indie rock
Just a ticking clock
You have no time for that anymore
You better watch where you run your mouth
Because you know what they'll say to you

And they'll say
Your life is over, your life is over
Your life is over, your life is over

Your life is over, your life is over
Your life is over, your life is over

Your life is over, over, over
Over, over, over, over

Your life is over, your life is over
Your life is over, your life is over

You think you can come and go as you please (your life is over, your life is over)
You can't quit, you're fired (your life is over, your life is over)

Your life is over, your life is over
Your life is over, your life is over

Your life is over, your life is over
Your life is over, your life is over

Your life is over, your life is over
Your life is over, your life is over

Your life is over, your life is over
Your life is over, your life is over

Your life is over, your life is over
Your life is over, your life is over

Your life is over, your life is over
Your life is over, your life is over

Your life is over

Copyright: ROUGH TRADE PUBLISHING
Writer(s): Patrick Stickles