Testo: I Mother Earth. Blacksox.
I'm afraid of a sure thing of a change in the here
and now and the force when it hits me the full weight of it when I'm down
The fucking air in the city when the phase-shifting sign is off
if this ship is unsteady, how will that lifeboat hold us all
I aint gonna crawl->tell them all to forget it tell them that's
it then call it off cause I'm worried about money and paradigm stores running low
I ain't gonna crawl but I'll lie on the road
so how can I laugh how can I take it without some doubt
how can I laugh how can I face it right away with everything gone wrong
with everything all over anyway I need some grace
Say goodbye to aesthetic,
better taste and essential self 'cause I'm just tired of running
and there's a time bomb in this head
So just who's the real killer and what made his paint dry?
It's kind of hard to imagine Holidays in Neurotica
A slap in the faith, hard, opened hand is the one reality
I can never protect myself from, even in the sparkle yard at end
of day warm summer madness in the bouquet of a dream son,
astral projecting, failing to right wrongs when the whole thing starts to open up
I ain't gonna crawl without falling hard, without some pain
whenever the fog breaks and a day takes hold
I just can't think straight right away maybe I'll come around...
or not I'm swinging again and all my ex-friends say its psycho-pathetic
and way too gone, almost painless even though I wondered
if something was wrong all along.
and now and the force when it hits me the full weight of it when I'm down
The fucking air in the city when the phase-shifting sign is off
if this ship is unsteady, how will that lifeboat hold us all
I aint gonna crawl->tell them all to forget it tell them that's
it then call it off cause I'm worried about money and paradigm stores running low
I ain't gonna crawl but I'll lie on the road
so how can I laugh how can I take it without some doubt
how can I laugh how can I face it right away with everything gone wrong
with everything all over anyway I need some grace
Say goodbye to aesthetic,
better taste and essential self 'cause I'm just tired of running
and there's a time bomb in this head
So just who's the real killer and what made his paint dry?
It's kind of hard to imagine Holidays in Neurotica
A slap in the faith, hard, opened hand is the one reality
I can never protect myself from, even in the sparkle yard at end
of day warm summer madness in the bouquet of a dream son,
astral projecting, failing to right wrongs when the whole thing starts to open up
I ain't gonna crawl without falling hard, without some pain
whenever the fog breaks and a day takes hold
I just can't think straight right away maybe I'll come around...
or not I'm swinging again and all my ex-friends say its psycho-pathetic
and way too gone, almost painless even though I wondered
if something was wrong all along.
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