Scarsick

Sick!

Sick!

I feel sick

I feel sick

That a spine I conformed

Just along with a bucketful of me

I feel free, Finally

I will see, What you mean when you free

Cause you scrooch to go home

Not alone

Happy drone

While resent is the scar

Something's cold in this bar

I feel sick in this car

Happily lead the way

But the strive for the soup starts

I will fall in line

And the bank kissed the prized sister spoon

Of the start sing it all

Of it just losing me

Of the line to subdue

For all that you lead

Happily just the same

Every joke conformity

Back at the name

Like it just get bigger

the sort of life adjustable

i'm venging for much

here on the inside

and honest in this sick sick sick

rock in the rituality

but you see

this sick will stain!

cut the stain! hit me!

Step into the darkness of treason

Take me home in your voice of reason

Have to be the sound of a soup of the season

hit me now, hitting ground

step into the darkness of treason

take me home in your voice of reason

have to be the sound of a soup of the season

hitting ground

hitting ground

sick!

sick!

sick!

i'm feeling sick in front of this

fucking traverse

that is just the sign of your sanity

you're not alone

and, every time that you hooked

every drug, every scar from every time

you just hate, to think

that you are in sin

instinct to flee

to escape, from this mess

must continue, must rape

and what's true, and what's real

so gnaw at your paw

to get out of the trap of decay

so much time, all the way to just let go to survive

did you lose all your time when you chewed?

through to strive by the everyday

just to stay alive

for you can't, can you hear that sound

in your ears, from the loud

and the mild, and the Cold

War around you, compounding

imbibing, that tells you that you're not alone

is the sound of thousands who vowed

to insanity

We'll be found

We'll be found

Step into the darkness of treason

Take me home in your voice of reason

Have to be the sound of a soup of the season

Hit me now

Hitting ground

Step into the darkness of treason

Take me home in your voice of reason

Have to be the sound of a soup of the season

We're around

Hitting ground

This is the breeding ground

Hitting ground

Ground!

Sick!

(Step into the darkness of treason)

I feel sick!

Sick!

Of these scars and these cars!

I feel sick!

(Step into the darkness of treason)

Sick!

I feel sick!

I feel sick!

You want faith?

You are sick!

(Step into the darkness of treason)

So sick!

Sick!

You want faith?

You are sick!

(Step into the darkness of treason)

Sick!

You're so sick!

You're all sick!

You want faith?

You are sick!

Soup of the season

Hitting ground

Soup of the season

Hitting ground

Soup of the season

Hitting ground

Soup of the season

Hitting ground