The Chills by The Wunder Years Lyrics

You wrote the notes on cellophane
Wrap me up and suffocate my ears
Follow second hands ticking repetition
Dressing up for pop pesimism
It's a chokehold ticket to a one man show
The critics were raving
I didn't bother to go
Masses of martyrs in the wrong ticket line
I watch comedy classics because they're better than mine
I poison myself to find a cure
I manufacture sliding doors
And novacain sells me short
I poison myself to find a cure
I manufacture closing doors
I work in the factory where I was born