They ask you why You've never tried They let you win And make you ill They let you spend Like one of them They make you choose Your way to lose They make you pay To the last day They make you weep Till you can't sleep They make you cry Before we die They let you know when it's time to go I don't feel empty I own you nothing If you alleviate my conscience I will try to assume vanity And if you tolerate my dissidence I will drink to my futility And then to you maybe And then to you maybe And then I don't feel empty I own you nothing