You're feeling like a little bit of nicotine,
Drifts like a ghost between you and me.
Isn't it ironic how it helps us breathe?
Or cope being on the bleachers of society. 

And they say the grass is greener, over the hill. But I don't believe that tale. 

Now we're watching all the cars go by,
cavalcade of egos noosed by their ties
The crowds swamp them as they chugg by.
They'll burn their efergy if they switch sides. 

And they say the grass is greener, over the hill. But I don't believe that tale 

So ask me again: to forget my name.
So ask me again. Are my fingerprints the same?
But even when our homes are gone, at least we'll know the facts.
That trying to replace the old is bound to leave some cracks.

All the crowd, they cried out.
Falling back around.
Holidays they crossed out. 

And so you did it all wrong
You're blaming all your scars
On the ones who stitched them up
How could you screw that up? 

And they say the grass is greener, over the hill. Now I believe that's real. 

And they say the grass is greener, over the hill. Now I believe that's real. 

Hey there, don't you worry about it.
Hold back, it will leave less damage. 
Life's a
Broken, slow motion foreign language.

All the Crowd - live

Felix