10:30 on a Tuesday, lights are on
But I know that there's no one that I know at home
Captain's at the table, and he's running dry
Looking for the trial that left him wide eyed
Mother, father
You live, you die by the white
Wake up, get up
Does not your son shine?
Choose your weapon wisely, making sure that it's fine
Draw the straw so you can walk the line
Chop, chop, cut it up now
Chop, chop, suck it up now
Why must you get so high?
Mother, father
You live, you die by the white
Wake up, get up
Does not your son shine?
Give me reason
Tell me where it all went wrong
Oh, so wrong
Maybe one day
Maybe nevermore
Mother, father
You live, you die by the white
Wake up, get up
Does not your son shine?
