Think me and you could maybe use a lost weekend
I've been losing all my friends
I wave another empty bottle in your face,
Like I'm hitting it hard
But it's just pretend
'cos you know I'm not
I wouldn't know where to start
I've been there before
I went and got lost,
Always the back end of this pantomime horse

All we seem to do these days is wave our arms and yell
Other people are [bad word] And what's that song you're singing, everybody hurts?
And everybody lies,
Don't wanna remember, too many regrets
And no cigarettes
'cos I'm not a smoker,
But I said I was
And the elevator stuck between the floors
Is getting to me
Don't let him forsake you
Wrack him up and knock him down again
You're changing direction
I won't know where I was
The back end of the pantomime horse
Is getting to me

Maestro, a [bad word] roll please
This is the golden age

Staring down the corners of the room
Another nowhere town
When everything I sing is in a minor key
I have to write it down,
Or I won't remember
Then I'll get it wrong
This isn't the song, I'm thinking
I'm not the singer
That I thought I was
In the solitude before the applause
Is getting to me 

Maestro a [bad word] roll please
This is the golden age