Another dream interruptednAnother moment lost that I begged, stole and cheated fornI begged, stole and cheated once beforenIt's the 'would haves', the 'could haves'nAnd the 'damn I really did thats?'nWhich make us who we arennWe are the sunnWe won't come up for just anyonenWe will rest our heads for another hourn'Cause this town's still coming downnGet real or get outnnWhoa whoa, nothing in this book is truenBut it's exactly how things arenWhoa whoa, nothing in this book is truennSo if you're pulling parts of sky downnAnd making curtains, 'cause the future's too brightnThen man, just kill the lightsnSurely that's a given?nnWhat good is closure, if it tears those drapes wide open?nI think I'll sit this outnI'd rather brave the come-downnnWhoa whoa, nothing in this book is truenBut it's exactly how things arenWhoa whoa, nothing in this book is truennWe live our lives like a ghost at a feastn'Cause it's more poetic to wish for somethingnThan to get up and grab itnnGet real or get outnG-Get real or get outn(I think it's time, we tried our hand at non-fiction)nSure we might be further from the action than the grassnBut at least we're wearing shoes that lastnHey, our hometown's not that badnSt. Crispin's got our backsnnOh whoa, nothing in this book is truenBut it's exactly how things arenWhoa whoa, why do they call it a 'front'nWhen it only serves to push us back?