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