This Is Not a Party

 

Lulu’s doing haircuts, though I don’t think she can see.
Brendan’s found a song to match the pace of his heartbeat.
Why do I do this? Why do I do this at all?
Edward’s on the big white telephone to God.
Charlie’s coming on to every person he can touch.
Why does this happen every time I dream in Technicolor, and I live in black and white?

This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.
This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.
And no one really cares, so let’s pretend we’re all okay.
This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.

Roxie’s made the call although her boyfriend wants to go.
James rolled on the floor, and I’ve lost all self control.
Why does this happen?
Why must it be?
I dream of space and time, then wake up in 2D.

This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.
This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.
And no one really cares, so let’s pretend we’re doing great.
This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.

You’re complicated.
You’re complicated.
You’re complicated.
Why so complicated?
Well go to sleep, don’t worry about me.
I’m just fishing for the moon and artificial sea.

This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.
This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.
And I don’t really care, and I’m never gonna change.
This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.

This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.
You said we’d never work; you said we weren’t the same,
And I don’t really care, and I don’t ever want to change.
This is not a party; it’s a hurricane.

 
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