I was sad as a Christmas tree in February High as the eyes of the Great Khali Had the look of a book at the library That's been checked out one too many times And I'd given up being given up Spent the last of my time Waiting on the world From the back of the line Just another slice Of a dusty old lime With no more juice to squeeze Squeeze it 'til it's dry Squeeze it 'til you die I'm a consumer of consumption Another user on the grid Baby boomers got the gumption to say: "Look here kid If yer business ain't growing Then your business ain't shit They don't sell your brand no more" And the last virgin wood Has been found and cut down Now I'm selling my soul just to live in this town That was built to the hilt Sky scrapers to the ground To squeeze the last drop dry So squeeze it 'til it's dry You gotta squeeze Squeeze it 'til you die All your life is the point of an arrow As it's pulled from the quiver with ease Pulled back, swift Softly released And plunged into the reckoning squeeze So squeeze Squeeze that sucker dry You gotta squeeze Squeeze it 'til you die