Makes it hard to breathe
And yet we hold our sweaty hands
Year after year
Some new year
Without music in our head
Newspaper tenement coming up dead
	So my paracute is hanging around
	I guess I bust it on the ground
	Nothing helps me fall
	Nothing helps me float
	Today I want to walk away

Pushing a ribcage
Makes it hard to breathe
And yet we whisper in the dark
Year after year
Some new year
Without newness in our head
Newspaper tenement coming up dead
	So my paracute is hanging around
	I guess I bust it on the ground
	Nothing helps me fall
	Nothing helps me float
	Today I want to walk away