98 percent of life is pure discomfort
Laways on the lockout for
Mind altering spec-tables
I try to move
I try to hide
But my hands are tied up
No way I'll improve
Got to keep up my delirium
Got to keep m nihilistic
Way of life true
Force my hands
Through the mist
First priority
As a clench my fists
I try to breathe
I try to feel
But my hands are tied
No way I'll improve
Got to keep up my delirium
Got to keep m nihilistic
Way of life true
That's the last of me you've
Got it in your pain
Your safe surroundings
Bores me to d**h
I'm blessed with the
Art of self implosion
My fuse burns faster
That even before
My, fuse, burns, faster
Drenched in hypodermic
Lustfull sensation
That nowadays seldom come