Endless evenings of nonAre getting shorter, monotonous
Like an intruder, I belong outside
The same place I was before
Although I find myself right back
Saying things I'd say once more
I feel so lonesome, surrounded by friends
There's no reason for me to be here, no
Worth, content, significance
Who are talking about me, saying things I could care less about
This dialogue is without
Conversational ambivalence
Hear the same things every night, it just ain't right
I'm not the one to hold the bag
Show me a time, tell me a story
Give me something I can sink my teeth into
That I haven't heard a million times before
I pass out from boredom
I see moments in their lives, nothing fascinating
As I watch the people pass
Are we all living for the past, never realizing
Lacking content, significance
We're clinging to an empty bag
Conversational ambivalence
Say the same thing every night, it just ain't right
We'll see who's left holding the bag SIDE 2.
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