Boiled Frogs (Originally by Alexisonfire)

Old man sits at his desk
One year from retirement,
And he's up for review
Not quite sure what to do
Each passing year
The workload grows

I'm always wishing, I'm always wishing too late
For things [bad word] my way
It always ends up the same
I must be missing, I must be missing the point
Your signal fades away and all I'm left with is noise

So wait up, I'm not sleeping alone again tonight
There's so much to dream about, there must be more to my life

Poor little tin man still swinging his axe,
Even though his joints are clogged [bad word] 

My youth is slipping, my youth is slipping away
Safe in monotony, day after day
My youth is slipping, my youth is slipping away
Cold wind blows off the lake, and I know for sure that it's too late

So wait up, I'm not sleeping alone again tonight
There's so much to dream about, there must be more to my life

So wait up, I'm not sleeping alone again tonight,
There's so much to dream about, there must be more to my life.
So wait up I'm not sleeping alone again tonight
Between the light and shallow waves is where I'm going to die
Wait up for me
Wait up for me
Wait up for me