Pigs

Sometimes I like to lay in bed and pretend like I died
 Sometimes I stay like that til the day becomes night
 Then I crank myself up and I set loose to fly
 Like a bunch of restless bats finally coming to life.
 And the places are the same but the faces are new
 And my own face is somewhere between yellow and blue
 And I'm pressing my luck just to see if I can
 And I'm betting my soul and I'm losing again.
 Cuz these pigs seem to be getting the best of me.
 These fucking pigs seem to be getting the best of me.
 These fucking pigs seem to be getting the best of me.
 With so much to love, sometimes you wind up diseased.
 Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
 Oh!
 Now I'm back in the sun and my fingers are scraping
 And I can't work the clasp, I can't stop the shaking
 And I'm making that face that only ever happens
 When your life takes a shit in your pants and keeps crapping.
 What happened to all of the "Oh, you'll be fines?"
 What happened to having plenty of time?
 What happened to my fucking body and mind?
 I poisoned them dry, but I'd still like to try
 To wake up tomorrow and to feel myself grow in the sun
 To finally face all the work I still need to get done
 To quit being such a pussy
 And run back into the storm where my demons come from.
 But these pigs seem to be getting the best of me.
 These fucking pigs seem to be getting the best of me.
 Fucking pigs seem to be getting the best of me.
 With so much to love, sometimes you wind up diseased.
 With so much to love, sometimes you wind up diseased.
 With so much to love, sometimes you wind up diseased.
 Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.