Suburban Lifestyle Dream

Gentle touch, proper tie
You tell your friends, you love your life
Truth is you just want to scream
There’s a mountain you can’t climb

Trying not to fuck it up
Down in the streets of
Portugal, Portugal
Trying not to fuck it up
Down in the streets of
Portugal, Portugal

Uh they say it’s not a concern
But boy you know it’s trouble
Your youth is gone under a stone
Your golden days to rubble

The clock is on
Those days are gone
You feel your pulse
You feel it’s gone
You’re made of stone
You stupid fool
You lost your song
Forgot your rule
No tears to shed
No songs of joy
Your mask is worn
Your days are void
You feel unwell
You feel so tired
You want to yell
You’re dead inside
Down every bone
You feel like a bomb
You’re screaming your tongue
You’re about to explode
No one’s feeling your distress
Made out of regrets
Living for recess
Baby you’re dep(ressed)
Down every bone
You feel like a bomb
You’re screaming your tongue
You’re about to explode
There’s gotta be more
There’s gotta be more
There’s gotta be more