and photographs shout back in silence. Dead spaces echo an attack for the love of what we used to both call home. Wave a white flag and count me out
machine guns yo (sex machine) bust it i got another gun (what) i keep it in my briefcase it keeps me safe at my workplace cubicle gangster who's in need of his personal space
I'm gonna shine Heroes take their toll Hog your dreams And crush your soul Then take you out Out to dinner Roll on the original Highly strung out Spaced out
wanna be In the dark we all see what we know It's the space that scares us so You lead me through your garden where only dead things dare to grow You
- sex machine) (One, two, there you go-a) Bust it I got another gun I keep it in my briefcase It keeps me safe at my workplace Cubicle gangster whos in need of his personal space
erase We go together through the spaces I trace Man she looked me dead in my grill With a hand out strapped for one pill And I prescribed her fill And
But all it takes is one mistake Stuck and strung out dying on your own No one you hang around will ever help Because they're all junked out themselves
strung her up for killin' him Every manufactured holiday they sacrifice another victim Before wartime depression sets in I get to steppin' And shoe shine my weapon I'm hemroid I'm the leader You're dead
