Most the time it's the rat race On the road to find my face I will always lose the mask Tell the band to cart it back Coming up from landscape lows Coming home in dirty clothes Pockets full of empty change I will always rearrange them There's a hornet's nest in my head Oh, what am I supposed to do? How am I to carry you? Disappointment longs in my heart Just to plant another seed I will find a way to feed them I rehearse this on the plane Hydroplane in mourning rain Barely fill your lights butane Little sparks but fire's wane Most the time I'm a burn out Juggling life from hand to mouth I enact a show for you Try will let it go for you And the question burns thru my head What am I supposed to do? How am I to carry them thru? It's puzzle missing it's parts Half of life that seems short lived Maybe all that I can give them Coming up from landscape lows Coming home in shotty clothes I will simply have to change I will always rearrange my face Gun it, no don't
