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letra de first responders - jonas cook

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([?] is lost, [?], get out, dear cuttlefish)

a-one, a-two, a-three, and four
oh my god, have i heard that before

my friends think i’m depressed
logic says its apathy
dictionary reads hopeless
i call it confusion

i’m here alone playin’ guitar when i could be in your arms
but that’s only a good [?] when i’m trapped in my delusion
every hour i have ponders in my ideal of affection
while i sit and wonder through and ideal isolation
old change into new, when there’s nothing more to do
and right now, i’m not in the mood for a [?] consolation

and everyone stayed sober until nothing left was kosher
a stereotype finally settled in
fill the day with entropy, dissociate your disease
any fine that satisfies your grit

and everybody waits their turn for their heart to burn day-long for the void
and if you think for now that you are fine, you’re right, but wait just a minute boy
you need you’re allotted thrills, even though that’s what’s k!llin’ you
and if you go in, they’ll be callin’ to the first responders to the third floor bathroom

- jonas cook

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