Lyrics:

The lines of my earth, so brittle, unfertile, and ready to die

I need a drink, but the well has run dry

And we in the habit of saying the same things all over again

For the money we shall make



This is the last song that I write

'Til you tell me otherwise

And it's because I just don't feel it

This is the last song

'Til you tell me other wise

And it's because I just don't feel it anymore



It should be our time

This fertile youth's black soil is ready for rain

The harvest is high, but the well has gone dry

And they in the habit of saying the same things all over again

About the money we shall make



This is the last song that I write

'Til you tell me otherwise

And it's because I just don't feel it

This is the last song

'Til you tell me otherwise

And it's because I just don't feel it anymore