Well, the actual condition of my mind Is elusive as the answers that I find I keep going through transition, from doubt to indecision It's the actual
Don't speak unless spoken to and then you don't say much you think you're so self-righteous but your mind is out of touch You're afraid you're afraid
The most intense of burning hells Blasting expectations into smithereens Never feeling normal, can't accept the truth Resign myself to hating it, I hate
Walking down a sunny street to the library Checking out the latest books about outer space Going to the fruit stand to buy a dozen oranges She and the
Got something to say Like something to me Just go ahead and spit it out It's all the same, you see What's that, it doesn't make sense Are you talking
Brick on your head From the top of the ceiling Urban sniper, urban killer Won't be finished Until you're dead Urban sniper, urban killer Brick out the
Love and hate was in the air Like pollen from a flower Somewhere in April time They add another hour I guess I better think up a way to spend my time
Now, you look like you just got back from somewhere Somewhere, you know that it's true Together we went nearly to nowhere Nowhere really worth going to
It's a one-horse town One big desert Asphalt desert Asphalt jungle Beyond the threshold, beyond the threshold Change for the worse Change nonetheless
I picked up my belongings in a nylon carry-all I hear the porter call Said "The sky's the limit on this chartered trip away," I guess I'd better stay
She gave her little child a name A ward of welfare she became And then one day she met a man Digging through the trash for cans Charity, chastity, prudence
One day I walk the bed of nails I'm not the only one But some they cannot walk the jagged line Callous, concentrating For nails are sharp as lies I run
A nine digit number For every living soul That is all they talk about At Data Control They know everything about you Keeping secrets is too hard Your
Deadly skies, deadly night dreams Well, it's no lie to say what I've seen I've seen the end of the grand scheme 'Cause we all die by our worst means
Hey little girl, do you need a ride? Well, I've got room in my wagon, why don't you hop inside We could cruise down Robert Street all night long But I
I look at your house I wonder what goes on inside When you have to cry yourself to sleep at night Your parents fight You don't know who's wrong or right
Avalanche looms overhead Airplane flies overhead Important man sits by the window Sucked out of the first class window Images run by, thousand miles
If you're tired of all those other dances If you're tired of all those other moves You should do this dance that's really way out You should do this dance
