Another day, another lie
Another love, another sign.
Some more fear for that embrace
Some more hatred for that grace.
Sensitivity strikes and we're gone
We left town, on the first train out.
We laughed, we danced and we kissed.
We proved it all and now we're done.
Over and it's all just blinded by silly love notes.

Another night, another tight-jeaned honey.
Another whore, another dollar.
Some more love goes on in that bed and it'll break.
Some more fighting over the covers and they'll rip.
No hard feelings we're all just sluts here.
With some melancholy optimism to pass around.
We inject, we inhale and we inspect.
Our intake, we're insane and you're intact.
Doctor, doctor, show me the way.

So I wait, and I wait.
Hurry, panic, the guitar is making that sexy sound.
Sexy.
Sex.
Sound.
Moan for me baby.
This ain't some poem about sex, no...
This poem is about your day.
So play on you rockstar.
You could never keep her with this life.
She loved you.
You loved her.
She killed.
You ran.
Hatred ain't no choice here, boys.
So play on, with yourselves.
Play that melancholy optimism that is rock music.