| There’s a television on in the basement where the beasts are
|
| Chained to the wall, there’s a fistfight in the hall
|
| Where the beasts all dance to songs made from listing
|
| There’s a backbone in a proportion
|
| The majority lack one, but its not about backbones this time around
|
| Maybe one chance, I don’t know
|
| I keep on counting down, I keep on getting to zero
|
| Dragging ourselves over the canyon
|
| Blank stares three thousand miles wide
|
| One by one we gently fall upon
|
| The jagged edge of history, we’re on the edge of history
|
| One, two, three, R.A.B.I.D. |
| beastly invertebrates we be
|
| This is a problem, you know you know the same
|
| It took a while to connect, swallowed, transformed, and caged
|
| Showcased celebrities or suburban families
|
| We have no means to save ourselves today
|
| Maybe one chance. |
| I don’t know
|
| I keep on counting down, I keep on getting to zero |