November 12, 2015

Lyrics

How did Camus really die that night?
Were they right, when he died was it really his time?
Or was it suicide?
And Holden Caufield is a friend of mine,
We go drinking from time to time,
And I find it gets harder every time.

Back off!
But you're out on the street again.
Don't you stop!
Did you know you couldn't swim?
Back off!
Until you're on the street again.
I'm not gonna play if there ain't no way I'll win.

Well, Hemingway never seemed to mind the banalities of a normal life,
And I find it gets harder every time.
So he aimed a shotgun into the blue,
Placed his face between the two and sighed: "Here's to life!"

Back off!
But you're out on the street again.
Don't you stop!
Did you know you couldn't swim?
Back off!
Until you're on the street again.
I'm not gonna play if there ain't no way I'll win.

Hey there Salinger, what did you do
Just when the world was looking to you?
To write anything that meant anything,
You told us you were through.
And it's been years since you passed away
But I see no plaque and I see no grave,
And I can't help believing that you wanted it that way.

And Vincent Van Gogh, why do you weep?
You were on your way to heaven but the road was steep,
And who was there to break your fall?
We're guilty, one and all.
And I don't know much, but I do know this,
With a golden heart comes a rebel fist,
But I can't help agreeing with those that would not quit.

And it makes me sick when I think of it,
All my heroes could not live with this,
And I hope you rest in peace because with us you never did.
And KDC, you were much too young
And you changed my life,
But I draw the line at suicide, here's to life!

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