I had this crazy dream that I got my head stuck at the top of the stairs
I swear I could've put myself to sleep had I not been calling for help
And in the morning I saw myself in the mirror
And my hands were in a different place than where they started

I can touch my to-o-es (oh)
Without bending o-o-over
Oh, what is happening to me?
What is happening to me? (what is happening to me?)
What is happening to me?
(Woah-o-oh, woah-o-oh)

And I had this crazy feeling that nothing was out of reach anymore (anymore)
And I had a terrible feeling I could touch you from over here
And I thought it would be too fucked to be truе
But I woke up, and I felt my hands all on the carpеt

I can touch my to-o-es (oh)
Without bending o-o-over
What is happening to me?
What is happening to me?
What is happening to me?
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

And in just a couple seconds of breathing in and out
I was exiled from the heavens and flung toward the ground
I once had peace and quiet, now I can't turn the damn thing off
But I don't wanna die yet, I haven't finished what I'm working on
(Good luck)

Several hidden shots to the chest
How did you get everyone to think that you were depressed?
Tell me, if it's not on purpose, why'd you do it again?
Just admit it, you don't have a world that you're up against

This morning I dreamt about missing the train
I spent all that money just to throw it away
So I shot out of bed and bought a stranger some breakfast
But when I got it, he was no longer there
I searched the whole station, I couldn't find him anywhere

Good luck final girl, I hope you get what you deserve
No one's gonna do your job for you
After all, that's not how this thing works

I spent what little I have on trains headed North
Get off at the first stop, walk around till I'm bored
But that girl down the block said if I wanted to escape
I could always just knock on her door
But I don't need people like her anymore

Good luck final girl, I hope you get what you deserve
No one's gonna do your job for you
After all, that's not how this thing works

I'm postponing my suicide indefinitely
There's horseshoes in his pockets, hand grenades in his spleen
No amount of money could strike him off the calendar
And I haven't cried in seven years
Slumped in the café car, hiding my tears

Good luck final girl, I hope you get what you deserve
No one's gonna do your job for you
After all, that's not how this thing works
After all, that's not how this thing works
After all, that's not how this thing works
After all, that's not how this thing works