I climb the wooden stairs to my apartment in the city
With dark brown molding and white walls
I search my bank account for traces of the forty-hour weeks
I’ve been working since last fall

Give me a list of alarms to set
I’ll tuck myself into bed
And hope that I can sleep in on the weekends
Another slave to a paycheck
A silent servant to my monthly rent
What’s keeping me from sinking in the deep end?

Now there’s something to be said for a firm lack of common sense
'cause god knows getting in the van isn’t paying rent
And now my older friends are all getting married with kids
And I’m just stoked to play a basement

What's right and wrong at times like these?

Give me a list of alarms to set
I’ll tuck myself into bed
And hope that I can sleep in on the weekends
Another slave to a paycheck
A silent servant to my monthly rent
What’s keeping me from sinking in the deep end?

And all I can do is stall
While the plans we make
Become grit in the storm drain’s teeth
And the rain is getting harder every week
Now the plans we make
Become grit in the storm drain’s teeth
And the puddles are growing deeper at my feet

Give me a list of alarms to set
I’ll tuck myself into bed
And hope that I can sleep in on the weekends
Another slave to a paycheck
A silent servant to my monthly rent
I'm sinking, I'm sinking
I'm sinking, I'm sinking, I'm saying I'm sinking again