I've got a fuzzed out mind
and nothing but idle time
sitting on this mine
pretending to unwind.
I know that it's our turn
to watch the world burn
but I never did quite learn
to enjoy what I had earned.
I've got a fuzzed out brain
and a plan to explain
'cause we've doubled down on shame
but tonight we feel no pain.
So drunkenly we'll rise
much to our surprise
inebriated we cry,
"We're fighting for our lives."
Like a dog refusing his crate,
a lemming choosing his fate,
we're far too little too late.
But it's the losing fight
that draws us out at night.
It's not lack of sight
that we can't do what's right.