We get colder As we grow older We will walk So much slower Together we go Oh, miss believer, my pretty sleeper Your twisted mind is like snow on the road Your shaking shoulders prove that it's colder Inside your head than the winter of dead

Or shrug us off your shoulders Don't approve a single word we wrote Make us it, make us hip, make us scene Well we're just a wet dream for the webzines It's time for us to take a chance If you talk, you better walk With more than good hooks While you're

Let's raise a glass And have a toast to all our differences (ay) You carry me on your shoulders (Ya, ya, ya, ya) I wonder where my limit lies, my limit lies When I don't know what my limit is Hey, I wanna live in a leaderless world I wonder what that is

Ain't nobody prayin' for me Ain't nobody prayin' I feel like a chip on my shoulders I feel like I'm losin' my focus I feel like I'm losin' my patience I feel like my thoughts in the basement Feel like, I feel like you're miseducated Feel like I don't

Misery you insist that the weight of the world Should be on your shoulders Misery there's much more to life than what you see My friend of misery You just stood there screaming Fearing no one was listening to you They say the empty can rattles the most

Carry me to the shoreline Bury me in the sand Walk me across the water And maybe you'll understand Once the stone You're crawling under Is lifted off your shoulders Once the cloud that's raining The noise that you'll hear

When your long day is over And you can barely drag your feet The weight of the world Is on your shoulders I know what you need Bring it on home to me You've got someone here Wants to make it all right

Keep the weed next to the bed And light the wall, check for lead Dim the lights a little lower Hide your back or shrug your shoulders Give the gift, then fix your hair You have to get this turtleneck Oh no, this is so embarrassing Oh, the pissing fits

Get up, get up, get up on my shoulders. Here, take my cuzzi so your can stays colder. Be my country song sing-along beer holder. Hurry up baby, 'fore this song's over. Get up, get up, get up on my shoulders Baby, all week, yeah, you and me Have been

Tell me, are you coming back again? The sound of your torture is bringing us pain The weight on my shoulders I know I can't take Cry out, we will hear you Cry out so you can find your way back home Asking, are you coming back again? I need to know, will