Is there no place you'd rather, rather be Behind the parking lot, nothing worth to see Your hands are black While your skies are blue Why do you do the things that they force you to Your suffering Is coming to an end You'll never have to do this again Is there no place you'd rather, rather be Behind a cigarette Oh but you can't see My hands are black While your skies are blue Why do you do the things that they force you to Your suffering Is coming to an end You'll never have to do this again Your suffering Is coming to an end You'll never have to do this again My world comes to an end when you say let's pretend My world comes to an end when you say let's hold hands My world comes to an end when you say let's pretend see less