[Verse 1: Will Connolly]
An old envelope
Rests on my floor
I know what it's for
The future's a void
Broke, unemployed
These pills don't relax me
And all my friends have surpassed me
[Pre-Chorus: Connolly]
Balance on a nickel's width
Showbiz is a fickle b*tch
[Chorus: Connolly]
This is senseless
Struggling is senseless
[Verse 2: Connolly]
Never a peep
When I busked on the street
Now the critics critique
And all the raves start to reek
[Pre-Chorus: Connolly]
Auto-tunes at breakneck speed
Satisfaction guaranteed
[Chorus: Connolly]
This is senseless
Success is so senseless
It's relentless
With every entrance an expectation to "connect"
No, I can't live like this
'Cause it's senseless
[Verse 3: Connolly]
A gold envleope
Slips under my door
Don't know what it's for
[Outro: Richard Nixon]
But it isn't, it isn't, just not the ratty part of town, but the upper class of San Francisco is that way. Now Bohemian Grove, that I attend from time to time [?] it is the most faggy goddamned thing you could imagine, with that San Francisco crowd that goes in there. It's just terrible