Tekst:
Something With Numbers Etiquette

Young boy on the computer Young girl in her punk rock shoes Old man not a believer But what the hell is he gonna do School kids on their computers

Twelve days of straight out thinking, Twelve days of straight out hell. Looking out my window at the summer, Thinking of my future and my mum. My

as close as it get's To understanding me through all these lines Now you understand the way I feel Listen carefully Feel the way I feel Listen to my voice Think of something

If I was falling through the air in a coffin filled with rocks You would be the last thing on my mind. Leaving with or without The endless doubtless

This armchair is old and lonely Reminds me of my boring self It feels like I'm the only Lonely human left on this earth If I could sit and watch

Free falling My feet have been swept right from beneath me Knees crumble I lay face down on the street Hear voices And sounds that seem to echo