This is probably going to be
The coldest summer of the rest of your life
And this is probably going to be
The most clouds you see up in the sky
Ain't ever going to feel as free
As you do giving up all your time for your job
You're going to think back on the feasts
When you slowly start to starve

Tide's rolling in
Water is starting to boil
Air starts getting thin
Something seems wrong

It's going to be so hard
To remember times before
Just some reassuring blur
Back when you weren't eating bugs
Look at the man in the mirror
He's trying to give you a warning

Started so subtly
Like a sniffle or a cough
Next thing we knew
We were already too far gone
Now the tide's rolled on in
Water has come to a boil
Air sharp and thin
Everything is wrong