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Kick you know you're still a kid |
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And your diets too full of additives |
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Passed out on a couch with ashes in your mouth |
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Dreaming that you're hopping a fence |
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This world must have it out for you |
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From the shores of Montaca to Malibu |
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The trappings of a name you never could escape |
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Because people want to live in the past |
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Some goal they mentioned they never had |
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I thought we lost that Camelot |
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I thought we lost that Camelot |
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It's a children's story we forgot |
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So long ago |
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Kick it's hard to find a friend |
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In a place that's so cruel and partisan |
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But you should go in style to Stockholm for a while |
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Live outside oblivion's lent |
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Someday you'll have a fine divorce |
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And a cemetery plot in Johannesburg |
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It's time you close your eyes |
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On a helicopter ride |
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I hope you see it isn't your fault |
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I hope you know it isn't your fault |
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I thought they shot that Camelot |
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I thought they shot that Camelot |
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Whoever shot this movie star he grows |
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And the show must go on |
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Laying in an office on an old chaise lounge |
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Listening to the doctor drone |
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No therapeutic feeling once the shock wears off |
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Answer every question no |
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Hiding in a hammock with the shades pulled down |
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Wondering if the stories broke |
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Tragedy is prophet once the word gets out |
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Tablets at the country store |
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Searching under tables once the bars closed down |
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Said somebody stole your phone |
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Now there's no one to talk to but these trust fund drunks |
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Should have brought a chaperon |
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Kick I'd love to help you but I just don't count |
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Friendship makes you paranoid |
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I don't believe in crescents |
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But I just might now we never really had a choice |
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Like all your broken toys |
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Kick you know this life is rich |
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But pleasures not the same as happiness |
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If you don't collide with the traffic in your mind |
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I think you'll find your way out of this |
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I hope you find your way out of this |
