They say remember the good old days But we're so young that we have none And, if at all, should we belong It's to a blank generation with no idealism to fall back upon The taste is so sweet but it slips off the tongue as if falling this fast could be another race won But we're already out of time Already out of breath About to cross the finish line With absolutely nothing left And in every last gasp between the things they say and the nothing they mean the air we swallow shall be empty As we struggle to keep their false momentum going When it's not even a close call, this scramble for the drivers seat, The steering wheel remains out of reach for those considered to be "beneath" Look outside and only our eyes will see For us the road signs are blank - not blurry We'll never know if this was an opportunity To go anywhere To be anything Or just a question of "why bother?" Why bother knowing anything? Except when to admit defeat.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
