© 2021 Boiled fish hallway, soft spoken piano Sprinkled with shouts of a family affair Where are the children, joining the pink shirts They take to the streets to brown out your stare Nothing blows their minds, oh nothing blows their minds Like too many places and too many times Nothing fills their lives, oh nothing fills their lives Like too many pillows in too many fights Just close your eyes, pretend that it's not raining Just a lull in time, and soon it will be sunny once again Helpless romantics, drowning in boredom A knock on the door but there's nobody there Celluloid heroes, givers of false hope Abide and abet the merchants of scare Nothing blows their minds, oh nothing blows their minds Like too many places and too many times Nothing fills their lives, oh nothing fills their lives Like too many pillows in too many fights