-lyrics-



I don't do well with malls, high ceilings, or concert halls
I like basements where the centipedes crawl
not to mention these walls
feel like they've never really seen better days at all
nothing but a bedroom, a toilet, and a stall
frag grenade balls and a couple of ragdolls
and the police don't ever really cruise by
house aint very nice, wonder why? (why?)
because we got it for that good price
to make some sounds and stand on the half-sealed ice
spit some symphonies straight out of the heat pipes
and 'go hard' whether or not the beat bumps right
higher curse / write a verse / shaking on my very worst
knock them out / make it hurt / claustrophobic robot jerk
turn the dirt into a system that works
oh you've got a blog? I've got a mic and a stained shirt

my peøple refuse tø wear seat belts
walk thru the fire water until our feet melt
dying just tø live, praying just to breathe well
waiting før the devil tø sleep so we can leave hell
x2

and it's crazy how we phase these airwaves to chase these
broken hearted, filthy rotten pipe dreams
split them at the seams, shine it 'til it gleams
and make the means with no means to even make them
give a couple handshakes and really fucking shake them
until the earthquake breaks, or we break them
and if they board up the doors then we break in
with crowbars and a couple of paint cans
and we do it together
DIT team until this shit gets better
until these crystal ball ideals get severed
never equal, but the doses are lethal
so there goes the ego
like the neighborhood when they burnt out all the people
keep the reverb on cathedral
we've got no vultures here, just eagles
so go ahead and rock before they make it illegal

my peøple refuse tø wear seat belts
walk thru the fire water until our feet melt
dying just tø live, praying just to breathe well
waiting før the devil tø sleep so we can leave hell
x2