And there’s people, they’re playing pianos in public so everyone can know that they’ve something to offer, more than 16 numbers, convinced of their self-worth.
So you see suddenly, breathe a sigh of relief that you made it through the year
'Cause they keep going faster and you can’t remember how it is that you ended up here

And those eyes always see the same thing
And those sighs always sound the same to me

And you keep seeing people and thinking you know them, but wrong, they’re all the same: just another pretty face that’ll give you a place ‘til you finally go insane.
And when that day comes it’s been selfishly won, no regard for all the rest
And you’ll change your life, your face, your ways, your pace, your sound, your gait, and escape from inside your head

And I will visit you inside a little room
Take from you just exactly what I needed to build a place for us to live
Give nothing that is ours to give
Let people stop and stare.

Don’t we all want to be displayed in times square and say
"Time spent waiting’s time spent wasted?"
Hoping the songs will blot out the days when you can’t get it right and you fail when you fight to forget all the things you’ll do wrong and it’s not enough to get it out, write it down, write a shitty song and then hope no one notices the words are all wrong.
Rip them out of a book, glue them onto a page and think maybe they’ll say what we’re trying to say

Is that it’s probably not enough to wish you were better, so get those nails out, hang it up on the wall.
Let’s paint a mural about all our failures, then purge and collapse on the steps of that church where we wrote it all down

And tried to float away before the record skipped,
erasing all we tried to say, tearing pages from the script.
The words left on the page read
Time spent waiting’s time spent wasted.