It's Over
Sorry sir, I stole your money.
Sorry sir, I feel, but it’s so so twisted, so unreal.
It was what I’d heard of, and what I didn’t have,
But I cannot give what I do not have and I cannot take what I do not have.
I can’t take it.
Don’t stultify. Don’t hold me high.
Don’t stultify. Don’t hold me high.
Too many things held precious, too many things held dear;
That’s what I hate, that’s what I fear.
Too much to ask for may leave me feeling lonely,
But too little leaves me nothing, nothing,
But the drone in your voice, and the fly on the wall said,
“It’s over, it’s over, it’s over, it is.”
What do I wish for you, what do I wish?
It’s over, it’s over , it is.
Are we still solemn and bleeding?
And are we still swimming to water that was wet?
You can’t give away certain things that you get.
From the outside to the inside I couldn’t tell you how it really was.
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