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Why am I lagging behind on this mad minutiaWhile misled editors attempt to recut my future? Strike up the band if you still can or sneak through a trapdoorAnd sell your organs if they don't make music anymoreI tried to pretend that it's overClicking my heels till it's overPicking at scabs till it's overOh, I'll miss you as planned when it's overThe tragedy of longevity is one day I'll need youAnd all I'll find are ragged linings of hollow tissue Screwed to a shell of red blood cells, but we finally get paidI lost you in the mail, I lost you all in a slave tradeI tried to pretend that it's overClicking my heels till it's overPicking at scabs till it's over oh, I'll miss you as planned, I'm a soldierTaking dead aim at the sober Bullseye of the beholderAnd I'll miss you as plannedI will miss you as planned if I canCan we make it stop with both hands? From Letras Mania