A Go-See
And when the first one
Feels like the last one
And the last one left you numb
Count up your blessings
And count the times you told yourself that you hate what you’ve become
Where everything goes down
And everything turn brown
It’s like a broken home
You better leave it alone
And when the carpet becomes your comfort
And the corner is your chair
Roll up your sleeves and count your friends on one hand
Turn around
There’s nobody there
As if you care less
More is less
You’re moral-less
No more
**GUITAR SOLO
When things turn brown
and all the pretty sounds become a crippled drone
you better leave it alone
you better leave it alone (x4)
Oh (scream)
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