Karen

Karen

Back to the audience

Clicking with one hand

Always face the band

Step forward

Foot down the rabbit hole

Beating off the fans

Don't have time for anything

You'll ride

Out like a cannonball

Playing a show

To some hundreds of reptiles

Who lick your silver hands

And say "silver's out of style now, Karen"

Cold call

Dead of the night again

Twisted and turned around

It all becomes a requiem

Lifted and burnt down

And it all becomes a requiem

I love you everyone

Wish I could take you home

Wish I could shake you