The Hedonists Collide

It's hard to admit
when you barely fit in.
I swore I'd never come here again.
But that's the flow of a mind,
caught in magnetic craze,
a hyperceptual parade.
Feeling happy just to sit alone
and watch the others blindly following to
the infinite groove,
and I can barely seem to move.
And although I'd love to try,
to further open up my mind,
I just slowly step aside,
and watch the hedonists collide.

The crowd is alive,
full of primal relief.
I feel old, and they feel free.
But they're just slaves to style (We love your style),
tied to the scene (We love your style),
Fashion's latest Kings and Queens.
Feeling happy just to sit alone
and watch the others blindly following to
the infinite groove,
and I can barely seem to move.
And although I'd love to try,
to further open up my mind,
I just slowly step aside,
and watch the hedonists collide.

I must admit,
(let's keep our voices discreet)
You know, I still enjoy the "break beat."
So strip me of mind. (We'll strip your mind.)
Strip the mistakes. (We'll strip your mind.)
And make me change for fashion's sake.
Feeling happy just to sit alone
and watch the others blindly following to
the infinite groove,
and I can barely seem to move.
Am I the last alive,
who always feels one step behind,
but I just keep that thought inside,
and watch the hedonists collide.
And as the envy fills my mind,
I watch the hedonists collide.