SICK Its all SICK, I feel sick Ill be sick, then its fine Im conform to your norm With a bucket full for me Ill be free, finally I will see what you mean with your freedom This world you call home Not alone, happy drone Wont be sick of these cars All these clothes, and these bars All these sickening scars Ill believe in the way Of the stripes and the superstars I will fall in line and obey Cause the price is so small Almost nothing at all If Im just losing ME Then the ideals and truths Will follow naturally Happily I will settle for Your conformative apathy If I could just get rid of this Unsettling, uncomfortable Unbendable Bucket of insight and honesty This SICK SICK SICK bucket of reality But you see, see this sick will stick Cause its ME Its ME Step into the dark age of treason Today the only voice of reason Would have to be the sound Of the soup of the season Hitting ground Hitting ground... SICK! Feeling sickened by this fucking travesty Is just a sign of sanity Youre not alone And every time that you hurt Every cut, every scar And every time you just hate Everything that you are It is simply the instinct to flee To escape from this mess This continuous rape Of whats true and whats real So you gnaw at your paw To get out of this trap Of the cage, of our time All that rage Is your struggle to survive They think you wanna die When in truth you just strive Biting every hand Just to stay alive But can you hear that sound In your ear, growing louder and louder? The whole world around you A pounding and grinding That tells you that youre not alone Its the sound of thousands and thousands Of vixen teeth Hitting BONE Step into the dark age of treason Today the only voice of reason Would have to be the sound Of the soup of the season Hitting ground... SICK... Of these bars and these cars I feel sick You are making me sick So sick You are making me sick Its all sick Were all sick You are making me sick Soup of the season Hitting ground
sick, hitting, soup, bucket, season