Upstairs

Soon we'll go
To a place where nobody
Has been keeping track
And we'll eat for free
All while holding hands

Stripping senses nightly
Undecided
All of your blues
Are just passing through

Standing there
While all the men in their hats try to cry
Sending and puking them down
Can you want it back?
Would it be alright?

Stripping senses nightly
Undecided
All of your blues
Are just passing through