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The Weakends

Quicksand is a code of arms

Lose sleep with some liquid fiction

Last rites every Friday night

While we cool with the lights onHigh tide tied around the neck

The same song everybody's bleeding

What makes me so different?

The insides work the sameYou ever fear the dark impressions of your future?

The slightest gravestone whisper the stillness of your heart

I feel it growing dark, a fever inching deeper

A fever inching to the coreI'll kick tomorrow, fight back at the pouring rain

I'll send the weekends down the drain, down the drain

I'll kick tomorrow, fight back at the pouring rain

I'll send the weekends down the drain, down the drainShorelines all around the world

Bright lights and some heavy breathing

Lipstick and the dagger's kiss

Just a figment of a feelingHands pressed up against the chest

Holding out for the big connection

Laxed lungs never looked so good

It's a trunk show all the wayAs years go crashing by I think of all I've pondered

So many minutes squandered, so many things undone

I'll try to figure out how many lives I've wasted

Waiting for the perfect time to startI'll kick tomorrow, fight back at the pouring rain

I'll send the weekends down the drain, down the drain

I'll kick tomorrow, fight back at the pouring rain

I'll send the weekends down the drain, down the drainI'll kick tomorrow, I'll send the weekends

I'll kick tomorrow, I'll send the weekends

I'll kick tomorrow, I'll send the weekends

I'll kick tomorrow, I'll send the weekendsI'll kick tomorrow, fight back at the pouring rain

I'll send the weekends down the drain, down the drain

I'll kick tomorrow, fight back at the pouring rain

I'll send the weekends down the drain, down the drain

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