Truck

Sunless, waking in a wall Fumble around so the fingers can thaw Dreamless, just moving out loud Meat in a market sold or thrown out Corpses, still beating is all Running in shit with my head on a quarter Symbol, I'm slot machine made Ringing and riotous I'm getting paid And now you can say did it And you can say did it good And you can pat yourself on the back like a big boy Like a big boy should I'm gonna beef it up Get all my buddies off When they get checks in the mail like the CFO of Microsoft Tipsy truck, outline Through the dust we drive Now behind, that's life People roam, people die Sour Patch, gas stop Filling up, getting lost Scary pump, lost some And still we ride, still we run Oh, that's life People roam, people die Sour Patch, gas stop Filling up, getting lost Casted, white tape on the lines Can't drive safe when the driver is blind Forcing our way cause collected minds force fate for a pile of dimes Now pass this Always stretching the vine Hording the grapes and chugging the wine Resigned to the life of the kiss of the climb The gem in the mine The cave collapsed the breaks did grind And we danced our way to ancient times To fight or flight to no divine Though we find we live a crime A cold collective lie Collected by Art collectors buying The spine of a sharp decline into the grime But we eat it, motherfucker when we eat it we eat it we eat it Tipsy truck, outline Through the dust we drive Now behind, that's life People roam, people die Sour Patch, gas stop Filling up, getting lost Scary pump, lost some And still we ride, still we run Oh, that's life People roam, people die Sour Patch, gas stop Filling up, getting lost