Lyrics:

Son, take it from me, it's in the little victories
That keep you shaking hands with defeat
Son, I'll tell you reality isn't all it's cracked up to be
But the years go lightning fast that I just can't help but see

We believe it's okay to leave the words caught in your throat
But you know that you're growing old
You always do what you're told, going up in smoke and you're a ghost
You know in the end you'll be walking a tightrope, walking the tightrope

Son, take it from me, life's more than the floors of this factory
And working forty hours every single week
Son, I'll tell you reality isn't living down on your knees
But my life's gone in a flash and I just can't help but see

We believe it's okay to leave the words caught in your throat
But you know that you're growing old
You always do what you're told, going up in smoke and you're a ghost
You know in the end you'll be walking the tightrope, walking the tightrope

Mouthfuls of rotting dynamite
Mouthfuls of rotting dynamite
You call this living a normal life?
We're not living a normal life

We still believe it's okay to leave the words caught in your throat
But you know that you're growing old
You always do what you're told, going up in smoke and you're a ghost
You know in the end you'll be walking the tightrope, walking the tightrope

We still believe it's okay to leave the words caught in your throat
But you know you'll be walking the tightrope
You always do what you're told, going up in smoke and you're a ghost
You know in the end you'll be walking the tightrope, walking the tightrope