Our mistakes are scrawled upon the chalkboard They`re scribed across stained glass They`re posted on the billboards A lackluster charade And are we so naive to concede these forefathers? Apparently we are
Well, apparently it`s true There`s no slot machines past the pearly gates Why do we kid ourselves? We grow old and wise We just lose our minds
The dinner is a hit The guests are full of spirits They gather around the husband He`s versed in party tricks The wife is in the bedroom Smearing her makeup, makeup, make it up But she`s got a lover on the side Motels, cheap wine She says "You can`t base love off the pity fuck, unless they`ve got a lot of money."
`Cause it`s the games that we play `Cause we need to exist We`re not humans, we`re citizens It`s the one on the ground With his hands on his heart It`s the cleavage of division It`s all jagged and jaded But it suits us We just fake it through
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