If life could be a sick day we'd both call out and have it made.
We could stop from feeling like it's all got no meaning.

I could talk to you 'til my face turns blue
or 'til you just get sick of the sound
of my voice and my face,
then we'll leave this place,
I can't wait to bail on this town.
'Cause this town is fucking boring me now.

Life could be a sick day and we could fucking have it made.
No more hurt feelings.
No more morning meetings.

I could talk to you 'til my face turns blue,
catch my breath and do it again.
We could waste our days in the best of ways,
showering each other in sin.
Because "sin" is just a meaningless word.

Whatever happened to dreaming?
Whatever happened to taking risks?
Whatever happened to placing a big bet on yourself?
Whatever happened to you?

Life is just a sick game that neither of us asked to play.
So why don't we just forfeit?
Yeah, why don't we just call it?

We could play our own game that no one else officiates.
We could call it Sick Day
and it would always end in stalemate.

And I'd let you win if it hadn't have been
for that rule I happened to choose.
But it's okay that it happened that way
'cause I still wanna play it with you.
Because you will always be on my team.