Home, home in the late, night
And away, away in the half, life
Except Saturday, crushed by the boring
Until played and plagued by the tourists again
When once you had believed it
Now you see it's sucking you in
To string you along with the pretense
And pave the way for the coming release
Alone and prone in the half,light
And late, late to the real, life
If you will find a way into the gold rush
You will stay until the morning comes
You will normalize
Don't it make you feel alive