It´s the disease of the age
It´s the disease that we crave
alone at the end of the rave
we catch the last bus home
corporate America wakes
coffee republic and cakes
we open the latch on the gate
of the hole that we call our home
Protect me from what I want
Maybe we´re victims of fate
remember when we´d celebrate
we´d drink and get high until late
and now we´re all alone
wedding bells ain´t gonna chime
with both of us guilty of crime
and both of us sentenced to time
and now we´re all alone
Protect me from what I want.