Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lip Critic
Lip Critic
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bret Kaser
Bret Kaser
Composer
Connor Kleitz
Connor Kleitz
Composer
Danny Eberle
Danny Eberle
Composer
Ilan Natter
Ilan Natter
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bret Kaser
Bret Kaser
Producer
Connor Kleitz
Connor Kleitz
Producer
Danny Eberle
Danny Eberle
Producer
Ilan Natter
Ilan Natter
Producer

Lyrics

So what You think I'm a baby boy Better yet In the nights I fill up my poison guts I'm tenderized Big love Everything I need and more Give it up Take a lust I am what the pipeline does Toxic flush Sorry but There's no one I recognize More I think I almost forgot the wound was cauterized Think I might have lost it all Jig is up Make a run Still I fall Say so You can make a couple dollars cuz I say so And it never really matters where the pay goes I would burn a couple bridges if you say so If you Say so Let my spirit bomber go and drop its payload And one day I'll get payed baby in full But it never really mattered what I said so No it never really There's always one step you can't cheat Always one step shows its teeth I know that I'm just tissue I know that I am just bones Connected by thin bridges of sinew and of foam There's always one move you won't make Always one thing that makes you afraid I am too much for it I'm too much for myself How long before my shrapnel sits in jars upon the shelf (I can't believe you, you idiot, you've doomed us all) Say so You can make a couple dollars cuz I say so And it never really matters where the pay goes I would burn a couple bridges if you say so If you Say so Let my spirit bomber go and drop its payload And one day I'll get payed baby in full But it never really mattered what I said so No it never really Born on a soft blanket Out of a soft womb But I was destined for the mousetrap As futures tend to loom The fountain on the desk of my doctors receptionist Marries to a siren to create a sonic fist Trapped in it I'm trapped in it I've chosen my sick life For every other seemed to feel as sharpened as the knife I wake up to a woman with a face a tattoo of rabbits She says that tricking death is the worst of my bad habits No trial of my self lurking As long as my lungs stay filled So I pray to god I do my best Until my time is killed No belief in my engine Screaming engine of peace A heartbeat plateaus As a tupperware lid's breached
Writer(s): Bret Kaser, Connor Kleitz, Danny Eberle, Ilan Natter Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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