The Strokes - At The Door

I can’t escape itNever gonna make it out of this in timeI guess that’s just fineI’m not there quite yetMy thoughts, such a messLike a little boyWhat you running for?Run at the doorAnyone home?Have I lost it all?Struck me like a chordI’m an ugly boyHolding out the knifeLonely afterlifeYou begged me not to goSinking like a stoneUse me like an oarGet yourself to shoreBang at the doorAnyone home?That’s just what they doRight in front of youLike a cannonballSlamming through your wallIn their face, I sawWhat they’re fighting forCan’t escape itI never gonna make itTill the end, I guessStruck me like a chordI’m an ugly boyHolding out the knifeLonely afterlifeBanging on the doorI don’t wanna knowSinking like a stoneSo use me like an oarHard to fight what I can’t seeNot trying to build no dynastyI can see beyond this worldBut we’ve lost this game so many times beforeLying on the cold floorI’ll be waiting, yeahI’ll be waiting from the other sideWaiting for the tide to riseLying on the cold floorI’ll be waiting, yeahI’ll be waiting from the other sideWaiting for the tide to rise