Don't you want me to wake up? Then give me just a bit of your time Arguments are made for make-ups So give it just a little more time We've got to bring the resources I wanna play until the time comes Forget your string of divorces Just go and throw your little hands up It's late, oh I miss the way the night goes With friends who always make it feel good This basement has a cold glow Though it's better than a bunch of others So go and dance yourself clean 'You're blowing Marxism to pieces' Their little arguments to pieces Show It's your show Put your little feet down And hang out Every night's a different story It's a thirty car pileup with you Everybody's getting younger It's the end of an era It's true And you go Stop Break me into bigger pieces So some of me is home with you Wait until the weekend And we can make our bad dreams come true And it's a go, yeah And if we wait until the weekend We could miss the best thing to do Oh Wish you'd try a little harder In the tedious march of the few Every day's a different warning There's a part of me hoping it's true