Pack the mornin? up, it's gone away   Everybody here is wide awake   I'm addicted to your aging face   Little deaths and little lives replaced      Seize the back-me-ups and climb the stairs   Fraction of the man who didn't care   Idols are the parks designed for weak   You and me, and me, and you and me      All the former fathers re-appear   Try to find a space close to hear   Place the bruises up inside the clocks   This is hard and then this is not      Leave me standing with my lady's death   Housing up the holes like we're a breath   Guess the night pretends to be asleep   You and me, and me, and you and me