getting By Version 2 lyrics

We create wheel barrows full of sound for it to be dumped into a black hole:
the bottomless abyss of bi-polar disorders
A broken abacus down to good times
Someone please write a post-it note to remind me why I`m doing this
and when to pay the cable bill
Won`t talk about the cage, it`s been touched on too much
Besides, I`m seeing dead whales all too often
which in itself is rather frightening
Sad how bad times make good music
Hope I can maintain this great depression
and leave myself guessing if I can out do the former until the end
We`re all waiting for the payoff..
I have one, they have none, so I`m feeling rather lucky and guilty at the
same time

We all whistle a salty tune to ourselves for the world to hear
and when it`s time to capture memories
the closest thing to a smile we can muster is a sneer
And giving blood, sweat, and tears in exchange for cold sweat
and fears is only equal to a tickled throat for so long
So the songs lose excitement and loops become grating
My being is scarred up and I can`t keep myself from picking
We turn pages and fight sore hands
ADD addicts of abrasiveness joyriding through the same scene over and over
Time and time again I`m asking myself why
but I`m proud of the dust of twenty cities irritating my eyes
"All for what?" loops in my head
I ain`t fessin` `til I`m dead or until everything is said
She has bouquets of poppies spilling from her heart
and I`m stuck here tapping my pen on my pad of paper wondering where to start
I suppose this comes with the process and problems, getting by
three reasons to do this: her, them, and I

Chorus:
Kicking myself, standing on the edge with a dumb look on, snapping out of it
asking, "what are you doing?"
Kicking myself, standing on the edge with a dumb look on, snapping out of it
asking, "what are you thinking?"
Kicking myself, standing on the edge with a dumb look on, snapping out of it
asking, "where are you going?"
Kicking myself, standing on the edge with a dumb look on, snapping out of it
asking, "why?"

On overcast days, I`m at one with myself
but perhaps I should take advice from bumper stickers
But seeing old guitarists on their farm with their children reminscing
is that feeling that I`m missing from almost a year ago
Back then, it was all about looking through the bullet holes and sighing
Now it`s snapping my fingers at Linus and smiling
I guess it takes hard times to curl my fingers, not a fist
but around this blue flex-grip asking, "do you think...?"
Select a question to be answered in words that are next to nothing
that`s how I kept my sanity in the first half
I feel like someone is passing hula-hoops down the length of my body
yet the theater seats are empty, yet I still hear that laugh
It takes a power outage to muster creativity
just like tragedies and the commerce on the Stars and Stripes
Who am I to say? I have problems getting a blank page moving
just one of my insecurities that I suppose will come and go today
All I can hear are the drums I search for
that might be why the pens are mute at this point
Sole says, "it`s rubies and rabies,"
and lately I`ve been foaming at the mouth
Can`t put my finger on why
my sleeves are sopping wet with possiblys and maybes
This is the part where I repeat the last two lines
of the song before the chorus to drive across my point
This is the part where I repeat the last two lines
of the song before the chorus to drive across my point?

Chorus
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