Love is nothing more than a stain on a dress 

Watching things you sold being purchased for less 

Euthanasia that's easy to ingest 

And they call this making progress 

If you take a billion plus a little finesse 

And dreamy Yale boys cashing in on their "success" 

Then you take a bath in Uncle Sam's treasure chest 

That equals making progress 

Meanwhile I am drowning in an ocean of stress 

Analyzing data for a sure, sure bet 

An affordable commodity that I can invest 

Your love 

Your sweet, sweet love I guess 

Baby, baby it would be the best 

If we got together tonight and regressed 

It's not like we'd be de-evolving 

And the world wouldn't stop revolving 

We could forget the problems no one's solving 

Surely I jest 

And you're not listening anyway 

Where we go from here baby is anybody's guess 

So repress your insecurities and take off that dress 

Cause the day we realize no one can clean up this mess 

Will be a fine day for making progress