It's to much to believe
Only speaks in similes
But, in the end we'll come to see it's obsolete
Puts the practice into trials
Makes endeavors all worthwhile
But, whether winnings glorified, idecide
Idecide, Idecide, Idecide
We're making friends with matrys, who make their enemies, with themselves
They'll take what they need and then give you back some;
Just enough to get by
Enough sting to be stung
Enough poison to choke
Enough rope to be hung
Have mercy on me for I'll not give up;
Eternally down on my luck
Words wear no disguise when idecide
Idecide, Idecide
We're aching from the pressure
All angles and all asides
The waitings not the anguish
Its the ride
Let me know if you don't think you'll make the team
So it goes making love is never what it seems