Meet me up on ninety-nine,
Beneath the marco polo sign,
I'll be the one with a box of wine,
And a hundred dollar car.
We could talk about the lives we've led,
And count the reasons we're not dead,
Or maybe we could talk instead,
About the ways in which we are.

Always nothing or too much to say,
Only so many sides of the record to play,
And the song that got stuck in my head,
Said, you die by what you live by,
You will die by what you live by,
You will die by what you live by, every time...

Like carnivores to carnal pleasures,
So will we to desperate measures,
Melting into stagnant puddles,
Beat down by the sun.
I went to school, i didn't stay,
Spoke right up when i had nothing good to say,
And i said it to anyone who would listen.

Lay me down in the bed that i made,
Starved for sleep by the shrill serenade,
Singing over and over.
You die by what you live by,
You will die by what you live by,
You will die by what you live by, every time
You die by what you live by,
You will die by what you live by,
You will die by what you live by, every time...