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Pink Balloon Band
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Tied To the Mast
You've been my favorite crutch, the excuse that I'll miss the most
When the sympathy pours down like rain to help subside the pain and pass the blame
And I've been here for too long, I feel I'm growing old, and soon we're all alone
And they say our days our numbered
All the pressure that we're under
And still we carry on
And they say we're doomed to fail
Our hope is setting sail
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And still we carry on, and still we carry on
Overpopulated, undereducated, restricted by our faults
And I've been here for too long, I feel I'm growing old, and soon we're all alone
And they say our days our numbered
All the pressure that we're under
And still we carry on
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