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1. |
Analysis Paralysis
03:01
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Happiness is a state of emergency
And paralysis is just a side-effect of over-analyzing everything
And laying here not making any progress is all just a part of the process
It’s all just a part of the process
And laying here not making any progress is all just a part of the process
It’s all just a part of the process
This music is my mistress
This labor is my lover
These doomsday theories are my bullshit excuses for not feeling as useless trading one vice for another
And I need you for the scathing reviews for the modern rendition of World War II in our living room
And you need me for the amnesty, for permission to ignore everything, everything
Cause laying here not making any progress is all just a part of the process
It’s all just a part of the process
Yeah, laying here not making any progress is all just a part of the process
It’s all just a part of the process
My music is my mistress
My labor is my lover
My doomsday theories are the greatest excuses,
and I don’t feel as useless as I used to
My doomsday theories are the greatest excuses,
are the greatest excuses, are the greatest excuses,
are the greatest excuses
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2. |
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The Aftertaste of Fetal Alcohol
Let’s give ‘em one for their money and two black eyes,
Three broken out teeth that were spitting out lies.
Now it’s four, five, six, six, six for the devil’s disguise.
We’ve got snakes eyes and sevens. We need ‘em for luck.
Eight balls and nine lives making ten on a buck,
But we’re banking on sin, wearing finger tips thin,
Losing merit every minute and we’re thirteen in.
With your knees to the bevel break bread with the devil tonight,
Cause she’s a mighty good looker for a half-pint hooker,
And she’s offering a hell of a ride.
With the polish of a prince let your pistol and your jewelry shine.
Drop your knees to the bevel break bread with the devil tonight.
This poverty’s got a nine to five,
And every martyr for your dollar’s upstate doing five to nine.
Two fingers checking heartbeats erratic.
Satellite minds catching nothing but static.
Now let’s praise the lord and pass out the guns,
Bid a fine farewell to our fathers, our daughters and our sons.
Pour a toast with the blood of the lamb.
Cheers to mothers’ miscarriage of a generation.
With your knees to the bevel break bread with the devil tonight,
Cause she’s a mighty good looker for a half-pint hooker,
And she’s offering a hell of a ride.
With the polish of a prince let your pistol and your jewelry shine.
Drop your knees to the bevel break bread with the devil tonight.
Take your goodnight gargle of razorblades and rhetoric.
Wash it down with a teaspoon of arsenic.
We can’t trust your trust in us,
So be certain as hell that you can’t trust us.
‘Cause this parasites pulse is finally starting to slow.
Now watch your shit hit the fan as our bricks hit your windows.
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3. |
Magic Bullet
02:51
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Magic Bullet (2 Shots)
I need a trigger I can depress
That’s puts you at your irresistibly best
That takes the words out of that hole in your head
That won’t stop repeating, won’t stop repeating, won’t stop repeating
Won’t stop repeating, won’t stop repeating, won’t stop repeating
I raised you to eat you
From the through where I used to feed you
For the protein I need to breed you
I raised you to eat you
From the through where I used to feed you
For the comfort I need to sleep through
I need an elixir I can ingest
That puts me at my irresistibly best
To keep my feet out of that hole in my head
That won't stop repeating, won’t stop repeating
I need an elixir I can ingest
That puts me at my irresistibly best
To keep my feet out of that hole in my head
That won't stop repeating the words you said
I'm fearful, I'm angry,
I'm anxious, I'm crazy,
Refusing to take those prescriptions they gave me
Feral and vile, eternally blame-free
And I'm still confused
As to what you'd prefer that I do
With the time that I don't have for you
I raised you to eat you, I raised you to eat you,
I raised you to eat you, I raised you to eat you.
And I'm still confused
As to what you'd prefer that I do
With the time that I don't have for you
I raised you to eat you, I raised you to eat you,
I raised you to eat you, I raised you to eat you.
I raised you to eat you, I raised you to eat you.
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4. |
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5. |
Treat Yourself
02:30
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TREAT YOURSELF
If heaven is liberation from worldly limitation then I should start praying
Cause this parade's delaying my afternoon commute
And the longer I sit the more wrinkles I get in this monkey suit
I rattle these pills to keep the beat
As I pound the pavement up and down every street
Between me and the things that the asshole inside of me imagines to be
I don't really mind the side effects
And I don't believe my medication perpetuates the stress
But let's face it, there's a correlation.
If I knew a good shrink I'd go see one,
But I may need to grow up to be one
For me to believe that there's one good enough for me.
If I were a good man, I'd just be one.
Wouldn't need the validation
I get with my favorite form of therapy.
This hell hole is antiquated. All "pearly fucking gated"? I feel charaded.
This shit's as fake as the tits on a preteen tramp
Whose mother has fucked her and father abandoned.
It's the pin through the preying mantis labeled "Exhibit A: Homo Erectus,
Vitruvian Man With a Monetized Madness”.
If I knew a good shrink I'd go see one,
But I may need to grow up to be one
For me to believe that there's one good enough for me.
If I were a good man, I'd just be one.
Wouldn't need the validation
I get with my favorite form of therapy.
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Company Retreat Kansas City, Missouri
Hi! We’re William, Josh, Jüff and Bert. If business casual politicore ozarkian party bro rock is your style we have at least 40% of what you're into.
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