The Beaver-Ization of the Americas

Can this thing go any faster? At this rate, we’ll all be left behind Cheers to our philosophy of this could be our “perfect disaster” Running power lines through empty cities It felt like we could take on the world if we wanted to I miss those feelings fading, fading How could something so real slip away from me? Wandered into a fairytale I’m scared if I open my eyes, it’ll all go away I’m calling for something real At this rate, we’ll all be left behind I’m calling you back hoping my advice can be your immediate relief team But unironically, I’ll fall harder and faster than you will I only hate you ‘cause you’re more forgiving than I could ever wish to be Can this thing go any faster? At this rate, I’d rather be left behind