Its a dull coat of gray
Applied straight to your eyes
That makes every display
Just more gray in disguise

You can’t think your way out
You can’t feel your way out
You can’t “God,-this-whole-thing-can’t-be-real” your way out
And your anger turns in
As your prospect gives out
And depression takes over your mind

It’s like glasses that change
How the whole world appears;
Turning innocent minutes
To turgid long years

You can’t talk your way out
You can’t grow your way out
You can’t “I’ll-go-to-sleep-it’ll-go” your way out
As your anger turns in
And your prospect gives out
And depression takes over
Your mind