An inventory has been taken of every belonging
An estimated value sold in event of emergencies
The only backup plan in case it doesn't work out
In losing all semblance of coherence to a former self
You know I am becoming the choices we're making

No problems,
problems with everything
Problems,
problems with everything
Oh God No...

Sometimes it's like conversations are a waking dream
A third party perspective
An audience to themselves
You can almost hear the sound traveling
It's caused a feeling of anticipation
When all of the sudden you know what's gonna happen
They saw the paranoids, they rebuild your world
They neither eat nor sleep they have no name you know..

Here in the worst, I will become, the best of them all

No more problems,
problems with anything
No more problems,
problems with anything

Evelyn sits by the elevator doors
It's been 37 years since James died on St. Patrick's Day in 1964
But she could not hold it against him
There were times when there was nothing she could do
But lie in bed all day beside a picture of them together
A picture of better days

And just like James, I'll be drinking irish tonight
and the memory of his last work week will be gone forever
Evelyn I'm not coming home tonight!
If we're never together
If I'm never back again
Well I swear to God that I'll love you forever
Evelyn I'm not coming home tonight!

In all the years that went by she said
She'd always love him
and from the day that he died
She never loved again

And in his wallet she kept in her nightstand
an a.a. card and a lock of red hair
she kept secrets of pride locked so tight in her heart
it killed a part of her before the rest was gone.

She said, "If I would have known just how things would have ended up I just would have let myself die."

And just like james, I'll be drinking irish tonight
and the memory of his last work week wil be gone forever
Evelyn I'm not coming home tonight!
If we're never together
If I'm never back again
Well I swear to God that I'll love you forever
Evelyn I'm not coming home tonight!

You're coming off kinda contrived and pretentious.
You're not saying anything we haven't heard before.
You're caught up in an argument.
Oh, oh you're so lost in modern art.

You will lose it all.
And you will find again.
Don't lose touch.
Don't lose touch.

S.O.S. texted from a cell phone?
Please tell me I'm not the only one,
that thinks we're taking ourselves too seriously,
Just a little too enamored with inflated self-purpose.

Talk is cheap.
And it doesn't mean much.
Don't lose touch.
Don't lose touch.
I'm losing touch.
I'm losing touch.

Constant entertainment for our restless minds.
Constant stimulation for epic appetites.
Is there something wrong with these songs?
Maybe there's something wrong with the audience.
Manipulation in rock music, fucking nausea.

I'm losing touch.
I'm losing touch, and it's obvious.

And we'll keep ourselves in a place where it's easy to hold onto.
And as the last threats came and went; this is the way that wars are played.
Always heading for a front, heading for a front, headed we go.
Into the obscurity of an easy to pass on feeling
Objection is so cliché.

A new way on.
A new way on.
A new way on.
A new way on.

So can your pop sensibilities sing me the end of the world?
Turn gunshots and mortar blasts into a metaphor of how we are all the same.
Well there's a lot of things that should be said, said, so we're hammering six strings.
Machine gun in audible voices, this is the party we came for.

A new way on.
A new way on.
A new way on.
A new way.

We stand in amazement of motion in a world that is constantly revolving.
With plans of invasion and arms races racing, yeah we rock, we rock, we rock, we rock to the new sensation.

A new way on.
A new way on.
A new way on.
A new way on.