SICK
It's all SICK
I feel sick, I'll be sick then it's fine,
I'm conform
To your norm with a bucket full of me, I'll be free
Finally I will see what you mean with your freedom
This world you call home, not alone, happy drone
Won't be sick of these cars, all these codes and these bars
All the sickening scars, I'll believe in the way
Of the stripes and the superstars
I will fall in line and obey 'cause the price is so small
Almost nothing at all if I'm just losing me
Then the ideals and truths will follow naturally
Happily I will settle for your conformative apathy
If I could just get rid of this
Unsettling, uncomfortable
Unbedable, bucket of insight and honesty
This sick, sick, sick bucket of reality
But you see: this sick will stick
'cause it's ME
It's ME
Step into the dark age of treason
Today the only voice of reason
Would have to be the sound
Of the soup of the season hitting ground
Hitting ground...
Felling sickened by this fucking travesty
Is just a sign of sanity, you're not alone
And every time that you hurt, every cut
Every scar and every time you just hate
Everything that you are it is simply the instinct to flee
To escape from this mess, this continuous rape of what's true
And what's real so you gnaw at your paw
To get out of the trap
Of the cage, of our time, all that rage
Is your struggle to survive, they think you wanna die
When in truth you just strive biting every hand just to stay alive
But can you hear the sound in you ear
Growing louder and louder, the whole world around you
A pounding and grinding that tells you that
You're not alone, it's the sound of
Thousands and thousands of vixen teeth
Hitting BONE
Step into the dark age of treason
Today the only voice of reason
Would have to be the sound
Of the soup of the season
Hitting ground...
Sick...
Of these bars and theses cars
I feel sick
You are making me sick
So sick
You are making me sick
It's all sick
We're all sick, you are making me sick
Soup of the season hitting ground...

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