Lyrics Weird Times - Clutch

Weird Times

She radiated haute couture
Fancy machinery and free literature
Yet I knew something was not quite right
Disregarding that, what was there not to like?
Weird times
Maximum, full blown
Weird times
Destination unknown
Weird times
Maximum, full blown
Weird times
Futurism is the loneliest job
The meter got to melting, the auditor screamed
Your thetan levels are far too extreme
She ran the numbers, there was no mistake
You don’t belong here, you must be from out of state
Weird times
Maximum, full blown
Weird times
Destination unknown
Weird times
Maximum, full blown
Weird times
Futurism is the loneliest job
I’m in the mood for technological innovation
The likes of which humanity has never seen
I’m in the mood for big time cosmic revelation
The likes of which would make you think more highly of me
Weird times
Maximum, full blown
Weird times
Destination unknown
Weird times
Maximum, full blown
Weird times
Futurism is the loneliest job
Weird times
Maximum, full blown
Weird times
Destination unknown
Weird times
Maximum, full blown
Weird times
Futurism is the loneliest job