[Verse 1]
I monitor your every move
Mark the fancy words you choose
As I tip-toe the picky part of town
All hail the avant garde
Lofty kids with pitch-black hearts
Are on top of things, in charge of this parade
Some sort of expo? twenty-twelve
[Chorus]
I inked W-A-L-L-E
On the dotted line
I sign up for a part of whatever plan
You got your hands on
And never mind the fine print
As long as I'm on everyone's lips
You can have the whole thing
I'll be turning heads tonight
And this soul is for sale if the price is right
[Verse 2]
Spare me yet another draft on how you're simply different
Second guessing everything inside
You expect your every phrase to be measured by the Richter Scale
And to tell you the truth I'm definitely shaking
? your collapse
[Chorus]
[Outro]
Anyway. I've never put much trust in the spiritual side of me
You can keep it all to yourself