The color's gray Enthusiasm's scraped away Left with a frame to hold things together And it's just my luck Pure insecurity's got me feeling stuck Inside this bed And we've all got the time To lose our minds Somewhere between distress and monotony Let's stop and hope that Old Man Winter Has been doped the fuck up For a lengthy existence Ankle deep, we'll stand unprepared And inclined to speak Of nature's ill will And we'll all make the time To lose our minds Somewhere between distress and monotony It's one of those things That you think you could explain But find out that you don't know how just yet And I've got a pulse Let's count it fair and square again Make sure that I'm in fact alive And we've got it alright But it's a damn cold night And I can see my breath And we all look like death Like death, and the color's gray Enthusiasm scraped away Left with a frame to hold things together