|
it's so easy to laugh at yourself |
|
and all those jokes have already been written |
|
seems like another vain attempt |
|
to let yourself fall out of the oven |
|
holy mountains |
|
they look so tired |
|
and it's a perfect day to lock yourself inside |
|
who you foolin' with the fools are right |
|
it's the same thing but it's almost as different |
|
hard to tell when it pacifies your mind |
|
leaves you stranded with a broken engine |
|
lazy desert looks so mangled |
|
let me drown in a convalescent bliss |
|
get up from your bed of rest |
|
been a long time since you've lived |
|
but the static in your mind |
|
leaves you hollow and unkind |
|
with a shock electric wave |
|
turns you on. |
|
you've been flunked out of the devils house |
|
delinquent hygienes are so abrasive |
|
some distortion that's never been known |
|
on the treadmill you've been runnin' forever |
|
holy mountains, they look so tired |
|
and it's a perfect day to lock yourself inside |
|
be gone |
