There's no home for us here
No stories to tell
They stacked the decks with shining lights
With undercuts and sabotage
Did we get enough?
Are we satisfied yet?
All of your voices are like silhouettes
They're never coming back
We never wanted to be cynical or fatalist
But day to day through ringing ears and gasoline
Bags of pills and buckets of ice
Did we get enough?
Are we satisfied yet?
All of your voices are like silhouettes
They're never coming back