Tekster: Cold War Kids. Cabaret.

I'm dreaming from a subway car, leaving my shoes for that seven story mountain
I can?t remember ever climbing anything
Because my fingers are snapping two years past now with nothing to show
I tried to go because I'm all bruised up searching for the road.

And what am I to look for?
How will I know when I find it?
In the country or the city?
I peep my head ?round every building.

I?m making up for lost time now giving everything I own to the kids on my street.
And I can rest assured they need it so much more than me.

I can?t explain it, can?t explain it, but it feels like somebody lifted.
I can?t explain it but it feels like some weight is gone.

And could you use some help, sir?

I can?t offer you no money.
How ?bout some strong advice, sir?
You can climb better than any other.

Sometimes I worry ?bout my friends and their lives, they get me so overwhelming.
I seen their lives had passed, had passed just with one blink of an eye.
And making so sure they can?t leave me once and you?re leaving me two toned.
I can?t believe I let the things I hear inside this room.

And what am I to live for?
I can?t count on any other.
And things are running rather way past due and I can?t complain.
And all the fights I fight are way past due and I can?t complain.