We are the young men, we are the desperation
We are a nervous wreck, we are the anxiety
We are the broken coin, the begging boys at your door
Call me the wasted time, the aging adolescence
Call me a bad sign of everything that's to come
Call me the crooked line, the field of ice
And I know I must move on
We are the broken hearts that got lost or set astray
We are the unemployed, still tangled up in our dreams
This is a new sign, the last changing of the day
It's time to grow up, and move away