don't tell me you expect nothing after
don't tell me that's what you expect
don't tell me you expect nothing after
don't tell me you have no regrets
don't tell me you have no regrets

i'm just a philosopher peasant
i'm just a literary dwarf
this life will be the death of my ego
rock, the strength of my soul
roll, the old riff on the soul

i take comfort in your disdain
outside your floodlights, something remains
in the dark, in the scum, in the dank and the dung
something in me will remain
when everything of me goes down the drain

maybe you played the game harder than me
i thought i played hard but you're harder than me
it's easy to be hard when you're sure of yourself
it's easy to be with those books on your shelf
all those self-authored books on your shelf

maybe the inner light blinded you
maybe guilt is just what you needed
maybe you should have been looking for jesus
should is a word that i shouldn't use
jesus christ

my birth was a laughable accident
yours was divinely ordained
i look for god in the cracks in my floor
you don't look back when they shut the door
you're tired, and life is a bore

i see your point
it struck me through the eye
but i don't think life is a mistake
i relish the music you hate
that is the music i make

wilco puts him in his happy place
a reference for your poor pizza face