Oh, pity us here, we angels of lead We're dead, we're sick, hanging by thread Get real Get real You can't stop meaningful teenage cries From deep behind fifty-year-old eyes Get real Get real I'm scared to touch, too tense to be undone I walk the streets not expecting morning sun Against the voice of doom, failures fall all over town I guess I should, I feel I should Get real Get real What's up? Who happened when I wasn't around? Who did what? What went down? Get real Get real Think about myself, it happens to me It happens in the tunnel when I let myself feel Get real Get real I'm scared to touch, too tense to be undone I walk the streets not expecting morning sun I feel it all through breakdowns, falling all over town I feel I should, I guess I should Get real Get real Get real Get real The dazzle of life, the rape of life The seed, the curse, the jazz of life Get real Get real Get real Get real