These failures right themselves in past and present tense There compiling these guidelines on giving up But I've got a comma in my pocket and you've got a dot dot dot We could steal some sugar from blank pages We could taste life if we don't get caught The ball point is run dry It's standing on standby Trapped in itself Condemended to mediocracy Your eyes are spelling out stories your lips won't dare to speak Our biographies are slowly burning, it's tragically beautiful, it's painful and sweet The ball point is run dry It's standing on standby Making love to it's paper as it scratches and tears They'll write you off