He says he sells an escape With an hour forty up projected (?) Scooped in goodness A brand new moral revelation For anyone who's hungry to be Leaving, eating My lungs are so tired So sick of all this singing My posters, my CDs Heartbreaking, my heart remade Shouldn't be And to think he wouldn't escape Till he had to leave And oh, all the feelings plague our heroes on TV All these perverts in my headphones Talk to me when I was young And listening to them Now their prose sounds clumsy Like they're trying to be anything but honest, often My lungs are so tired So sick of all this singing My posters, my CDs Heartbreaking, my heart remade Shouldn't be And to think he wouldn't escape Till he had to leave And oh, all the feelings plague our heroes on TV No trust for the song of the Summer, baby No trust for the song of the Spring The tune is stuck in my head But now I can't just get to leave Oh, what a horrible feeling listening Oh, to someone who does nothing