We all are stranger creatures than when we all started out as kids,
Culture forbids,
We have romantic fantasies about what dying [bad word] is,
To fall off the grid.

We live for the night's decor,
It reveals what we dream of.

I know there's someone at the door,
They called for help, of this I'm sure,
But do I want to say goodbye to all the glowing eyes,
I'm holding on to what I know,
And what I know, I must let go,
But I would rather play a song for the eyes to sing along.

We all know somebody who knows somebody who's doing great,
I know some people who know people who are flying straight,
But I'll kindly enter into rooms of depression,
While ceiling fans and idle hands will take my life again.

We live for the night's decor,
It reveals what we dream of.

I know there's someone at the door,
They called for help, of this I'm sure,
But do I want to say goodbye to all the glowing eyes,
I'm holding on to what I know,
And what I know, I must let go,
But I would rather play a song for the eyes to sing along.

This room is far too dark for us to stay around,
Redemption's not that far and darkness is going down.
Make them stop.

I'm holding on to what I know,
And what I know, I must let go,
But I would rather play a song for the eyes to sing along.
Make them stop.

https:/ [bad word] twentyone_pilots