Tabula Rasa

You begin to wear me out, I feel like crossbones to you skull

Your stupidity blinds me, your so-called brilliance is so dull

You're living life by proxy as your mind contracts

Too 2dimensional for backgrounds, too scared to see the life of facts

You callect emotions like the stamps of your youth

Then pass out in the gutter with your gin and Vermouth

You lie with the windfalls although you're unripe

Saying: "Idon't care about the green " You know you ain't

got the guts, "maaan" But you pretend to have the spleen

While playing memory with your feelings

and hide-and-seek with your thoughts

Accusing others of sell-out, saying you can't be bought

While i nreality, you ain't got nothing to sell

Your Chines fawcet's open, but there's nothing in the well

You're a tabula rasa, you're an empty page [x2]

You get through life like you get through a book

Been there, done that, Mr Jones?

The last chapter has ended, still you're as blank a page

A page as white as your bones [repeat chorus]