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It gets me down when I think about,
How every day is gonna go away,
And theyâre not coming back.
I lay around, then I wonder how I let yesterday get so far away.
Itâs never coming back.
They get up every morning at a quarter to eight.
Sit in traffic on the highway just to show up late
And make it home in time for dinner, in bed by ten.
But Iâd rather drop dead,
Face down on the ground unexpectedly.
And Iâd rather drop dead,
Face down with the good times pummeling me,
And Iâd rather drop dead than live like them.
We talk about how weâre getting out
And say one day that weâll run away,
And weâre not coming back.
But it gets us all in a different way.
Theyâll drag us out when we wanna stay and never give us back.
They get up every morning at a quarter to six.
Drink a half a pot of coffee just to get their fix.
And take a pill to fall asleep at night, and do it again.
Yeah but Iâd rather drop dead,
Face down on the ground unexpectedly.
And Iâd rather drop dead,
Face down with the good times pummeling me.
And Iâd rather drop dead than live like them.
âEric, lately Iâve been thinking a lot about time,â
And itâs wearing a hole through my head.
Yeah and lately Iâve been watching years go by.
And Iâm selling off all the days I have left that Iâd rather not spend.
Thereâs nothing left but regret and Iâd rather drop dead.
It gets me down when I think about,
How every day is gonna go away.
And theyâre not coming back.