Storyteller

The midnight [bad word] go walking
    Happy, looking sad, and talking destiny
    This is what the city pays for, I can see
    The neon lights resist the fight against separation anxiety
    This is what the city pays for, I can see
    The dream they sell
    I’m hooked; I’m overwhelmed again
    And I wish that I could say the days alleviate
    This artificial pain I never thought that I’d be feeling at this age
    But the [bad word] don’t go to sleep
    They linger just like you and me
    This is what the city pays for; what I need
    What’s happened to me?
    And then I have those dreams, too
    The ones where [bad word] around like a fool
    To make things better for you
    Like the good storyteller
    You once knew me as
    Try to hold it in my head
    That no time has passed
    Since I stood in circles with automatic friends
    Not worried that the means justified the end
    ‘Cause life without love
    Keeps my eyes wide
    And my house stays clean
    When I don’t let people inside