Testo: Farewell. Isn't This Supposed To Be Fun. Sing, Baby.

Down on your luck
These days are numbered one by one
Feeding the masses with their pacifying thumb

Too important to listen
They've got us pinned against the wall and so we say

You're one-in-a-million, baby
Well that's just how it goes
I've got a familiar feeling that everybody knows

Crooked minds and timeless binds have rotted out the core
Subconscious leading to precarious trap doors
Two times they glisten (?)
They've got us poised to take the fall and so we say

You're one-in-a-million, baby
Well that's just how it goes
I've got a familiar feeling that everybody knows

Climbing rooftops and the suits you're living in can't save your skin
So I sing this song to you
(You're my one and only)

You're one-in-a-million, baby
Well that's just how it goes
I've got a familiar feeling that everybody knows
You're one of a million dead-beats washed up on the shore
At the cap of a new wave that'll be crashing at your door(?)