Endgame

And that's another thing
I baulk as I'm chalking a cue
We're post-punk, post-truth, post-Europe, post-youth
Post-modern, post-faith and God, and post-post too
As music with nothing to say plays on the radio
Snooker myself more in tryin' to pull off something bolder
If everything's behind us, where's the point in growing older?

I think too much about everything
Am I losing touch of this game I'm in?
I don't know

Now he's picking a pocket
Forcing me cause a scene
All words are infective, all memories selective
Yeah, the proof is in my Putin, as truth crumbles the perspective

I think too much about everything
Am I losing touch of this game I'm in?
I know I think too much about everything
And I'm losing touch
I'm losing touch
I know I think too much about everything
And I care too much about what I think
'Cause I regret every time I drink
When it turns me into
It turns into someone I hate