| Diamonds on the inside
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| Rust on the template
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| Liquor on the liver
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| And some dust on the ribcage
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| Tricked out rides
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| Look for where the fuel split
|
| How many times must we go through the blueprints
|
| You dont need any schematics for the layout
|
| The lights often seize to assist you on your way out
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| Grab a flashlight, lets find the problem here
|
| This is the last night your heart won’t be commandeered
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| If there’s any piece of wisdom I can correlate;
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| The business exists to dismiss your subordinates
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| If the object of the game is to fly away
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| I’ll be in this position, never worried of the time of day
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| Compromising what the weather plans on dishing out
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| Precipitation computates the feelings that are different now
|
| On the borderline of catalog and annual
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| The analog emergencies are accurate and factual
|
| Co-dependent on the carbon copy skeleton
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| Open ended arguments for born again Americans
|
| The precedence is built from family traditions
|
| Finger-painted silhouettes that sadly depict us
|
| This is the episode that critics never mention
|
| Minuscule absurdities provoke viewer discretion
|
| And I’m convinced that I’m well prepared to face this
|
| Modern day catastrophe while watching from a distance
|
| I can be the sunset sky in the fall
|
| I can write a song that makes the world’s skin crawl
|
| I can be the last human being that you call
|
| I can be the future baby; |
| I can do it all
|
| I can be the sunset sky in the fall
|
| I can write a song that makes the world’s skin crawl
|
| I can be the last human being that you call
|
| I can be the future baby; |
| I can do it all
|
| Its a funeral procession for the cancers
|
| A beautiful display of the star-lit dancers
|
| Deep in the belly of the beast on a binge
|
| Contemplating suicide with feelings on the fringe
|
| The world is a dangerous contraption
|
| Of semi-automatic lovers murdering their passion
|
| And heaven is a sold out concert
|
| With tickets being scalped by angels dressed as monsters
|
| The feeding frenzy starts with a toast
|
| Directed to the family of the stay at home ghost
|
| Every so often you can hear him speak
|
| About the laboratory where experiments sleep
|
| False with the dialog, modest with depression
|
| Honorably discharged, admired as a veteran
|
| Regardless of anything you’ve heard
|
| He’s absolutely fascinated by your choice of words
|
| And he is what lives in our shadows
|
| A voice that we hear that communicates in vowels
|
| Pressed to the window with an eye on discovery
|
| Destined to imitate a butterfly that’s fluttering
|
| Caught in the world when they change his emotions
|
| Cautious and permanently brain-dead to most things
|
| I promise you that I can make a difference
|
| Let me kill the animals that kidnapped the princess |