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."