Feeling much too old to make a clean start
too much pain on the frame, no faith in the heart
everything just feels inevitable
thousands of disappointments have trained me well
and I should cheer the hell up, really I've got it soft
so I'm hip deep in red ink, so I got no dreams to keep aloft
so the world is steeped in war and hatred terrorists and bombs
so I don't know from where this self-destructive impulse comes
So I can't see civilization going anywhere but down
no clean start for anybody country, city, town
we'll remain surrounded by the artifacts of our mistakes
it seemed like we might aim higher, but oh well them's the breaks
sorry for this stale performance sorry for the rant
sorry for the yes we can turns out I guess we can't
can't stop fighting can't stop wasting why even pretend
hope I'm not around for it sometimes, I prophesy a messy end
what
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