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lyrics

Underestimate the process
And we'll wind up mad and cold
I better count my fucking blessings
And do what I'm told
The wind blows like a whistle
Trees bend my American cheese
Time bends the imagination
So we die with ease

His battered tongue has cold soars
And a mild case of chlamydia
These freedom fries are too salty
But at least they're kosher
The sun fires like a pistol
Cliffs end the American dream
And we keep crawling deeper into the void
Hoping we'll die with ease

No satellites for guidance
My mind wandered off the path
But the good Lord Jobs will find me
All his genius in an app
Ninety nine percent unhappy
And one percent greed
It ain't nothin' to 'em but chump change
Change that I can vote my way for free

But it's an illusion
It's an illusion
It's our confusion
But most of all
It's my delusion

credits

from In Some Room: Volume II, released June 19, 2014

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