Shaving

I've been dragging razor blades over my face for about ten years straight,
 From the week I turned thirteen
 Well, yesterday I turned twenty-three
 Dad used to joke that he could shave with a knife
 I've never seen a cut on his face in all of my life
 I hope my skin thickens into the kind of man I want to be
 ♪
 You're numb?
 Yeah, sure, I've been numb
 It's when you have so many choices, you end up choosing none
 And you're bored, I think I know the sort
 As long as you don't end up there as your first resort
 One time a drunk news presenter from RTE,
 took the time out of her busy night to explain to me,
 that boredom is a pretty recent term and forty years ago,
 no one used the word
 And there is so much more than this,
 some people survive by the skin of their wrist.
 And I had to let you know, Oh-woah-ohh
 ♪
 And I saw what was basically a child propped up on stage
 He proceeded to say nothing in the loudest way
 I lock my jaw so tight, point my eyes at the ground, in a futile effort to repel the sound
 As my mind starts to wander away, it calls back just to ask me "Was I ever this way?"
 The chords seem so familiar, although his speech is slurred
 I see we've the same shaving lines as he utters the words:
 There is so much more than this,
 Some people survive by the skin of their wrist
 And I had to let you know, Oh-woah-ohh
 ♪
 There is so much more than this,
 People survive by the skin of their wrist
 And I had to let you know, Oh-woah-ohh
 ♪
 And things won't be the same again
 At 6 A.M.
 Eight years ago, I was lying in the middle of the Old Bawn Road, singing:
 "I don't care if any cars come, I won't rise before the sun"
 At 6 A.M.
 Eight years ago, I was lying in the middle of the Old Bawn Road, singing:
 "I don't care if any cars come, I won't rise before the sun."