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.
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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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