Despite everything you've heard You still get what you deserve The world just can't find the words To tell you what they think about you The bus comes every morning Under long lists of reasons Everyday you're still sleeping And everyday it leaves without you Now you're talking on the phone with all your angry friends It really doesn't matter what you say to them Because when you hang up Everything will feel just like a dream But until you do Let's keep it between you and me Despite everything you heard From the bumblebees and the mockingbirds There still aren't any words To all the songs they wrote about you The bus comes early in the morning You are forever sleeping And even with your reasons It's still gonna leave without you Now I see you going out with all your useless friends You know it doesn't matter what you do with them Because when you come home Everything will just have been a dream But until you do Let's keep it between you and me I hear your conversations with your boring friends It really doesn't matter what you're telling them 'Cause you'll be sleeping over when the party ends And we'll wake up tomorrow and we'll start again And anything outside of that is just pretend And if you tell them different then you're lyin' The things that people say don't make no difference Now we can talk it over or just go to bed Or we can go to all the places where the money's spent And buy whatever new distraction that the suits invent They know the demographic that we represent Because they heard all of our secrets through the heating vent So write another song about your discontent And wax nostalgic for a time less turbulent With metaphors like closet doors that won't open And you can use your list of words that rhyme with 'opulent' Now someone said that you should throw in 'malcontent' Maybe somebody can tell us where the liquor went And we can raise our glasses while they raise our rent And search for a solution that's more permanent But there isn't any doctor or a medicine That's gonna make you feel less insignifigent Another bunch of words that you can soon forget Another bunch of crooks disguised as gentlemen Now you wonder why the notes are always bruised and bent You think that it's your song but it's your instrument You want to turn invisible and try again I'll kiss you in the kitchen and I'll count to ten And then when you wake up All of this will just have been a dream But until you do Let's keep it between you and me