I seem to split my jeans with each stride that I take
Muddled by the past in the ghost of my mistakes
With coffee as my fuel for a zombie's lurching stance
I pace and pry away with the devil's idle hands
and I waste it all on dreams
waste it all on dreams
waste it all on dreams
waste it all on dreams
God is in the sky and he's annoyed by my true voice
I choose to let him down as if there ever were a choice
How am I even loved? how am I a married man?
why do they even care why I'm allowed to start a band?
Waste it all on dreams
waste it all on dreams
waste it all on dreams
waste it all on dreams