There's something 'bout some people some of the time
and I know them 'cause they are like me
And every now and then they're losing touch
They are waiting on some train that [bad word] and getting angry
'Cause the tunnel's falling back
And the heat hangs on the rise
The swarm is a closing pack
And the station shrinks in size
And they don't like it (shouldn't have to)
but their life they just can't undo,
so they'll touch [bad word] through.
There's something 'bout some people some of the time
and I know them 'cause they are like me
And every now and then they take a hit
And question why they're taking it
Blowing dreams and reaping envy
And they look for something more, but their tracks are still the same
And the questions from before digging tunnels in their brain
And they don't like it (shouldn't have to)
but their life they just can't undo,
so they take [bad word] through
There's something 'bout some people some of the time
and I know them 'cause they are like me
And every now and then they catch a break
Every hit they ever took at stake
And for a moment, they could be happy
'Cause their train [bad word] in
and their touch is back for sure,
but the pain of when you win
"isn't winning" anymore
And they don't like it (shouldn't have to)
but their life they just can't undo,
and that train, they are attached to.