Up on a plane for a thousand yearsnThe young and plain take it out of menThe more you sell it off the more you get it back at nightnThe edge keeps falling all apart nAnd we can't keep guessing who's pardoning itnUs or them, or then we're always off already, gone alreadynnBet it all on menWe live off of crumbs and the soda machinenSet a, set a, you set a line nYou set a line and grow oldnnSo bet it all on menWe live off of crumbs and the soda machinenSet a, set a, you set a line nYou set a line and grow oldnnWould you rather be sick nWould you rather be stuck in a linenWould you rather be a trick taking cues from a pignAnd every thirty seconds there's another up for bidsnOr would rather just hidenWould you rather be left behindnnI know it's a drag, it gets harder than thatnYou can see it in their facesnYou can see it in their actnnSo bet it all on menWe live off of crumbs and the soda machinenSet a, set a, you set a line nYou set a line and grow oldnnSo bet it all on menWe live off of crumbs and the soda machinenSet a, set a, you set a line nYou set a line and grow old