Retirement

Our mistakes are scrawled upon the chalkboard 
They're scribed across stained glass 
They're posted on the billboards 
A lackluster charade 
And are we so naive to concede these forefathers? 
Apparently we are 

Well, apparently it's true 
There's no slot machines past the pearly gates 
Why do we kid ourselves? 
We grow old and wise 
We just lose our minds 

The dinner is a hit 
The guests are full of spirits 
They gather around the husband 
He's versed in party tricks 
The wife is in the bedroom 
Smearing her makeup, makeup, make it up 
But she's got a lover on the side 
Motels, cheap wine 
She says You can't base love off the pity fuck, 
 unless they've got a lot of money. 

'Cause it's the games that we play 
'Cause we need to exist 
We're not humans, we're citizens 
It's the one on the ground 
With his hands on his heart 
It's the cleavage of division 
It's all jagged and jaded 
But it suits us 
We just fake it through