Got no time to kill, you got nothing to do Slow on productivity cause nothing is new Music is a mockery, words mean less Silence and destruction, a bloody mess
No productivity Forced negativity Constant anxiety Dead end society
Standing in an alley on a Saturday night Well if I wasn’t hammered it wouldn’t be right Waiting for the enemy to make their move Feeling like a target in an arcade booth
You stagger home to bed at a quarter past two Stoned out of your head on acid and glue You can’t tell your parents what it is that you do You don’t dig the opening you’re forced to go through