Subtle - Earthsick lyrics

A flash flood in a plastic egg, this is the obvious boy hitting I saw a man hop a barb-wire fence with a baby under his arm A matress on the sidewalk next to a bike chained to a tree Earthsick earthsick earthsick earthsick earthsick earthsick (x4) One out of three says I'm a lie One out of three says I'm alive (x2) And the other third can't even say hi And that's just a third of the time "I haven't yet written the scene's that make up my movie." I'm american brood, 21st century fair Mad rat, the latch, and fame of he in that flown maze He shakes still coffee at the probable cigarette this here is a banger for the lonely, my age, and in therapy (Bang) Life grows in a cut (And bang) But it's a sunny rut (x7) (Bang) I don't care who thinks that it was them t'was money made the light bulb stem the final marble of math does not go further than the loaf of bread Wage That's why I write lines for space In zero denial Come on tax-man repo this! A twenty odd year young man washes his hands He drew a line in the sand a foot from the water and said "Free trips from here to the ocean: 5 cents," then he threw up a stand, and made a few million clams until a whale beeched at his feet Then he judged and he quit and he walked, buck-naked, back to the pert city where he then bent a railing around his throat for protection. See, what I was trying to explain was, the way a boy on a bike floats across a busy intersection. And all the world knowing that he's only late for dinner, And all that balance unfurling across the sockets in his skeleton. He's not the million parts soapy water of a bubble; Not the nine-hundreth percentile I saw a woman still reading Hamlet to her murmering baby, Although I wouldn't know, we were all watching a 64-inch screen play black; No one's plane had arrived yet I overhear two dying men with a lead whisper say that there on the TV there? That's footage from the afterlife live streamed straight over the child pipe Wrists reeking of cut gla** It's the digital... Cut It's the well water black of a digital clock (It's the well water black of a digital clock) (x8) It's what happens (x4) The first lie is that you are unique in a remote way, natural peace child Squeezing the earth around it's skin shedding fist, as soon as the stick came off the sand They knew that there was that magnetic something to the number seven