text: Your grandpa died when you were nine
  They said he had lost his mind
  You have learned way too soon
  You should never trust the Pantaloon
  Now its your turn to be alone
  Find a wife and build yourself a home
  You have learned way too soon
  That your dad is now the Pantaloon
  You are tired, you are hurt
  A moth ate through your favorite shirt
  And all your friends fertilize the ground you walk
  Lose your mind
  Hes seen too many stare downs
  Between the sun and the moon
  In the morning air
  How he used to hustle all the people
  Walking through the fairgrounds
  Hes been around so long
  Hes changed his meaning of a chair now
  Because a chair now
  Is like a tiny island in the sea of all the people
  Who glide across the very surface
  That made his bones feeble
  The end cant come soon enough
  But is it too soon?
  Either way he cant deny
  He is a Pantaloon
  You are tired, you are hurt
  A moth ate through your favorite shirt
  And all your friends fertilize the ground you walk
  Lose your mind
  You like to sleep alone
  Its colder than you know
  Cause your skin is so
  Used to colder bones
  Its warmer in the morning
  Than what it is at night
  Your bones are held together
  By your nightmares and your frights
  You are tired, you are hurt
  A moth ate through your favorite shirt
  And all your friends, they fertilize the ground you walk
  So lose your mind
  You are tired, you are hurt
  A moth ate through your favorite shirt
  And all your friends, they fertilize the ground you walk
  Lose your mind