There is so little to do
In this filthy city
One day we will have to deal with it
Without getting drunk
Without dreaming of escape
All holy days
Complaining that there are too many people
Or because there is too little of it
We are looking for the excuse
To stop
For not doing something

No, I don't want to end up like that
How everyone else ends up
With the television on every night
To not feel you
And Saturday night
Having dinner with friends
Listening to a jazz record
Can you think of a sadder thing
Of us beginning to appreciate jazz.
How much jazz sucks

And tell me the truth
Can you see me grocery shopping
To buy only organic products
To dream about McDonald's at night.
To stop smoking
Fighting every day with the will to do it
Can you see me being funny
To shake sweaty hands
Without then wiping on my pants
I can drown inside the silences of embarrassment
While I try not to talk about soccer
To not look bored
To watch like my father every single day the news

But I don't want to end up like this
How everyone else ends up
With the television on every night
To not feel you
And Saturday night
Having dinner with friends
Listening to a jazz record
And can you think of a sadder thing
Of us beginning to appreciate jazz
How much jazz sucks

Of course it's someone who doesn't ask you for flowers
But only solid uncertainties
Only solid uncertainties
May he never say "all or nothing"
Never "all or nothing"
That he doesn't smoke however he always has cigarettes
He always has cigarettes
He always has cigarettes
He always has cigarettes

He always has cigarettes
He always has cigarettes

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