Broad are these shoulders but heavy the weight
Sit alone in my room, where there ain't nothing to trace
No paper trails Karen, now that's such a waste, isn't it?
Well isn't it?
Every intention come apart as a bust
From machines onto mountains, forming ashes and rust
Given sterilized handshakes, made for people we've cussed, haven't we?
Now haven't we?
No one wants to say anything, no one wants to say
No one wants to say anything, no one wants to stay
Broad are these shoulders but heavy the weight
Sit alone in my room, where there ain't nothing to trace
No paper trails Karen, my heart's just a waste, isn't it?
Well isn't it?
Isn't it?
Well isn't it?