So Far So Good

[Intro]
Just a couple of weeks ago I was in Minneapolis, St. Paul Airport
I was walking down the hall and all of a sudden I was confronted
With a big poster, which said something to the effect:
"Are you tired, exhausted, hurried, and harried?
If so, we can take you away from all this in an escape machine"
"An escape machine?", you might ask
But you see, the really vital question:
"Why am I tired, exhausted, hurried, and harried?"
This question is what I ask

[Verse 1: Sims]
The whole world's turnin' now just for you
Just for you
Just for you
The moon's burnin' out now just for you
Just for you
Just for you
The whole world's turnin' now just for you
Just for you
Just for you
The moon's burnin' out now just for you
Just for you
Just for you
You've got the world on a string now, don't you? (Don't you?)
It moves to the speed of your hands
Command it at the snap of your digits
You can spin it how you wanna spin it
I'm just here to visit
Just passin' through
Maybe kick a few notes, you know?
But I've been tone-deaf since my girl left, and it shows
Buildin' a fire
Lookin' for footprints in the snow
Tap dancin' on landmines, angels, lead letters, and dead valentines
The red Jettas, the vendettas, and tapped landlines
And I'm on standby

[Verse 2: Sims]
And maybe it's the greatest maladaptation of our time
Overworked and underpaid, the way we waste our minds, right?
Barely stayin' afloat in the exponential growth
So we try to ex the stencil and sketch our own
But still feel the hands that are wrapped around our throats
We stumble home, fumbling for control of the debris
But it's hard to hold the weight
So we wear poker faces and keep switchblades up our sleeves
We are boxers fighting off the frost
Choking on pride, exhausted and lost
Now we survive, for what it's worth
Finding our way with the filament burnt
Lights out

[Outro: Sims]
We don't have time for passion anymore
It's all metal poses and plastic petaled roses
We just don't have time for passion anymore
It's all metal poses and plastic petaled roses
We don't have time for passion anymore
It's all metal poses and plastic petaled roses
We don't have time