| Get up son hit you head like a drum
|
| Weeds are all grown in vain
|
| Too much time I got too much time
|
| Living in a waste of space
|
| Take yourself don’t break yourself
|
| Its all gonna be ok
|
| Get used to it don’t lose your head
|
| Its all gonna be the same
|
| She knows send a message to her
|
| She knows get a message to her
|
| Kill it dead but don’t let it die there’s a price sitting on your head
|
| Face it down don’t turn it around
|
| Unless you wanna be where you been
|
| Take yourself don’t break yourself
|
| Its all gonna be ok
|
| Get used to it don’t lose your head
|
| Its all gonna be the same
|
| She knows send a massage to her
|
| She knows get a massage to her
|
| Spell out her name in cigarettes and knives tryin to see her
|
| Get her a massage on a dirty window tryin to see her
|
| I’ve been stripping the days off the sidewark and pavement
|
| The walls are all white and we’re painting them whiter for the zig zag manline
|
| my radio’s plastic
|
| And I’ve tasted the fodder of a saccharine ending
|
| Day job pay phone one in a trillion and the typecast heathen with the future
|
| all rancid
|
| Something to believe
|
| Something to believe |