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Rebuke
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Affection, Abandon, Affliction
That empty seat, that vacant chair*
Makes me doubt anyone will ever care
As much as me, as much as us
About this proverbial rusting bus
An elegy to all that we
Half-wittedly and whole-heartedly
Have tried to recover from atrophy
(But we all know how tasteless people can be)
(Childhood heroes)
We've raised our glasses to these songs
(Fallen idols)
With cracking voices sung along
(Timeless anthem)
We'll still revere it when it's gone
(Turning in it's grave)
I hope I'll be there one day
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Though we can't bring back what was before
There's always hope for something more
To storm the castle, kick down the door
The level of success
Is not measured in paychecks
Not quantified by press
That empty seat, that vacant chair
Made me doubt anyone would ever care
As much as us, and some of you
About this beautiful music that we listen to
And though we're few and far between
We sing the same songs and dream the same dreams
And that will always stay perfectly clear to me
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